ONE

"Laura Ingalls, what do you think you're doing?!"

The brown-haired girl looked over her shoulder. Her sister Mary wasn't really asking a question, she was shouting.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Laura snapped back as she took another step, careful to avoid the thorns in the ankle-deep underbrush. "I'm gonna find out what's makin' so much noise."

"If you rip up your new socks Ma's gonna be awful mad."

She'd thought about that. If she could have found somewhere to sit down, she would have taken her new striped socks off. But there wasn't anywhere to sit down 'cause everywhere she looked there was blackberry bushes. She'd lifted up her skirts and tucked them behind the waistband of her pantalettes to keep them safe. If Ma'd seen that, the scolding would have been even worse 'cause even though she wasn't gonna tear her dress and underpinnings, she was showing her ankles – well, even her knees – and that was what Ma called 'scandalous.' She said it was the kind of thing disorderly ladies did.

Whatever that meant.

"I can already see a run in the back of the left one!" Mary yelled.

"Well, then, ain't no point in me stoppin', is there?" she countered, her tone churlish. "I'll just take what punishment I get and be happy for it if it means I helped somethin' or somebody who needs it!"

That took her sister back a little bit. "Can you see anything?" Mary asked, her voice softer.

Laura peered ahead. It was late in the day. The sun was sinking down toward the horizon. It was almost sitting right on top of the ripened corn and, for the moment, was throwing its light across the bottomland by the creek. They were coming up on the place where Middle Ridge-fire Road turned north toward town and had about two more miles to go to the east before they'd be home. Mary'd been tutoring one of the Mason girls who lived west of Walnut Grove and she'd gone along to play with Janie's little sister, to keep her out of Mary's hair. Jennie was just about Carrie's age. She was real cute and fun and she didn't mind. Mrs. Mason had paid Mary fifty cents for the tutoring this week and they'd been talking about how her sister was gonna spend it when they heard a funny little noise off to the side of the road. It kinda sounded like a baby crying. They knew the place 'cause they'd been berry picking here before. The land beside the road fell away gently and sloped down toward the creek, moving through the area she was in now. On the way down was a riot of flowers, as Pa liked to say, and dozens of blackberry bushes. She'd gotten more than her fair share of thorns in her fingers for picking them, but the berries were always plump and juicy here and sure were worth it.

Sometimes it seemed the things that hurt you the most were the ones that meant the most too.

Of course when she'd heard the noise she'd taken off like a shot down the slope to see what it was. It hadn't taken Mary two seconds to start yelling at her that she was being foolish, that she needed to look before leaping, and that she was gonna get her hide tanned for ripping her clothes and making them late. Laura sighed as she took another step forward.

Sometimes it seemed like she had two Mas.

Carefully putting her foot down in a place surprisingly clear of thorns, Laura found a new purchase and then peered into the descending dark.

"There's somethin' movin'. I can see it. I think it's caught in the bushes."

"What is it?" Mary called.

Laura rolled her eyes. If she'd of known what it was, then she would have said what it was. "I don't know yet. That big old willow tree is casting big old shadows." Narrowing her eyes she looked for another partially clear spot. Finding one, she lifted her right foot and put it in it. Then she lifted her left – and heard her stocking rip.

She sighed.

Well, there went that orange in her Christmas stocking.

Lifting her foot anyhow, she put her it down next to the other one and then leaned forward, peering into the shadows. "There's definitely somethin' moving, Mary. Looks kind of fuzzy and brown. Maybe it's a puppy." She inched closer and as she did the little animal began to whine with fear. "Hush," she said, "hey, it's okay. I ain't gonna hurt you. You're..."

Laura sucked in a breath.

"What is it?" her sister asked instantly.

She was looking at the little thing. It was all caught up in berry branches like it had rolled in a bail of barbed wire. Little beads of blood dotted its light brown coat and it was howling to wake the dead.

"It's a bear cub," she said.

Mary gasped. "Laura, get out of there!"

"It ain't gonna hurt me," she replied.

"No, but it's mama will if she finds you there and it's howling like that. You get back up here now! Now, Laura!"

"But it's bleedin'..."

"For Gosh sakes, Laura! It's mama's gonna smell that blood! You know what pa told us about grizzlies. You back out of there now!"

She eyed the poor little thing. It had stopped howling and was staring at her just as hard as she was staring at it. Then she saw it turn its little head. It made a funny little bleating noise, kind of like a lamb, and started to struggle again.

It was then she heard it. A huffing noise and the sound of something running hard through the trees, charging, crashing through the undergrowth and heading straight toward her.

"Laura, get out of there!"

For some reason, she couldn't move. It was like her legs had been planted in that berry patch just as sure as those tall stalks of corn were planted in Pa's field. As Mary continued to scream hysterically, Laura continued to stare. It was about ten seconds later that she saw a big five hundred pound grizzly bear with a light brown coat break through the tree-line in front of her. It halted, reared up on its haunches, and bellowed.

Terrified, Laura turned. She was about to run when a man's voice shouted.

"Stay where you are! Stay still!"

A second later the man appeared. He was about Pa's size and had a head of curly shining hair that glinted as the dying rays of the sun struck it. He was wearing a bright green jacket and light-colored pants and had a holster tied around his left leg just like the gunfighters did in the newspaper pictures. He moved in-between her and the big animal and started yelling and waving his hands like he was trying to scare the she-bear away. She knew sometimes that bears were only bluffing, but she didn't think this was gonna be one of those times. That mama bear looked right mad. Even as the man reached toward the gun hanging on his hip, the grizzly crouched low and charged. Seconds later it plowed right into him. He threw his arm in front of his face when it hit, trying to keep her fangs off his throat. The bear caught it in her teeth as she drove him to the ground.

Mary shouted something and she turned and saw her sister running. Laura wanted to follow her but she just couldn't. Whoever he was, the man had just saved her life and she couldn't just leave him. Shaking like she'd been in the cold for hours, the little girl closed her eyes and turned back. Drawing a shuddering breath, she asked God to make sure the man was all right, and then she opened her eyes. The mama bear had the man's left leg in her mouth, holding it up around the thigh. She was shaking his body from side to side. Then, she just stopped and dropped him. That old bear turned to her cub and made a low noise in her throat. The little bear answered and then it wriggled free of the berry branches and ran away. Its mama watched it for a minute and then turned back to the man and nudged him with her nose.

Then she just walked away like nothing happened.

Laura was breathing so hard she was lightheaded, and shaking so hard she didn't know if she could take a step. The man was just laying there, not moving.

She was sure he was dead.

During the attack the sun had all but set, so it was hard to make her way over to him without hitting every thorn in her path. The berry bushes shredded her stockings and cut her legs as she went. Still she figured with how bad the man had to hurting – if he was still alive – that was nothing. Laura stopped and glanced back to make sure Mary hadn't reappeared . When she didn't see her sister, she started forward again. She'd seen an awful lot of things in her short life, from Minnesota to Kansas and back, but she hadn't ever seen a dead man other than one all dressed up and laid out in a coffin. She could smell blood as she approached him, and see that that pretty green jacket wasn't so pretty anymore. It was all stained with what looked like black spots, though she knew they were really red.

And growing.

The man's face was scratched, but the bear hadn't mauled it. His arm inside his ruined jacket looked like a big old mess. Worse than that, though, was his left thigh where the mama bear's teeth had taken hold of it. His gray pants were torn into pieces so you could see his skin was all ripped up underneath.

Laura bit her lip. She shuddered again and started to cry. It was all her fault. If she hadn't been so goldarned certain she had to save that little cub, she wouldn't have needed rescuing, and then the stranger wouldn't have gotten killed.

And the cub didn't need saving after all!

Near sobbing, Laura fell to her knees and put her hand on the man's face. He startled her by moaning.

He wasn't dead!

She reached down and took his hand in hers. It was covered in a black leather glove. The leather wasn't like Pa's work gloves. It was so soft and smooth it felt like skin. Reaching out with her other hand, she hesitantly touched his cheek.

"Mister?"

He moaned again but didn't open his eyes.

"Mister? Can you hear me?"

His lips parted slightly, like he was trying to answer.

"I think my sister went to get help. You just hold on, you hear?"

This time he sort of nodded.

Laura shook her head. "You were awful brave, takin' on that big old grizzly bear. That was just about the bravest thing I ever seen." When he didn't react, she touched his face again and was rewarded by another moan. Her tears continued to flow. "I bet you're hurtin' awful bad. We'll have to get you to the Doc as fast as we can."

It was then she heard one of the most wonderful things she had ever heard in her whole life.

Her Pa's voice.

"Half-pint! Where are you? Laura, you answer me! Answer me now!"

She stood up, still holding the stranger's hand. "I'm here, Pa. I'm over here! There's a man, Pa. He saved me, but he's hurt awful bad!"

A second later she watched as her father broke through the trees. He was holding a lantern. It lit his face and right then, with that light shining up on him, he looked just like an angel out of the reverend's picture book. Pa halted and looked around as its soft glow reached out to touch her. When he saw her, he began to move forward.

Mary was right behind him.

Her pa came to her side and dropped to the ground beside the stranger. As he did, she looked at her sister. "Where'd you go?" she asked.

"I heard a wagon on the road. I didn't know who it was." Mary's gaze went to their pa. "Ma got worried and sent Pa after us. He was heading to the Masons."

Their father's hands were moving quickly over the stranger's supine form. Pa whistled once and then shook his head. "He's right lucky that she-bear was giving him a warning and not trying to kill him. Still, he's pretty bad off. She bit him, and it looks like dirt and maybe more got pushed into that wound when she did."

"Can we get him in the wagon, Pa?" Mary asked.

He looked up at her. "I need to stop the bleedin' first. You girls start tearin' strips off your petticoats." At their horrified look, he added quietly, "I'll settle it with your ma. This man's life is more important that a yard of cloth."

It took Pa about a half an hour to tie off the man's arm wound so it wouldn't bleed no more and then to make a splint for his leg. All the time he kept talking to the stranger, asking him questions and telling him he needed to stay awake. The man would moan and from time to time, say a word. There was only one they could make out. He kept saying 'Pa' over and over again. It was kind of funny 'cause she knew he wasn't talking about her pa even though he was right there.

He was probably calling for his own.

"Are you gonna take him to town to see Doctor Baker?" Laura asked as her father rose.

"The Doc's out of town. He went to pick-up supplies in Sleepy Eye and won't be back for days." Pa wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. He was sweating. "We'll take him to our house where your ma can look after him. After that, I'll go to town and send a wire to Doc Baker." He glanced at the man again. "I think he needs to come back right away."

Laura looked at the man too. She couldn't see him well, but he looked so small and sad laying there on the ground all quiet-like.

"Is he gonna die, Pa?" she asked, her voice hushed.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Honestly, Half-pint," Pa replied, "only God knows." He bent then and took up the lantern. "I want you and Mary to stay here with him," he said. "I'm gonna go unhitch the horses. I'll put him on one and ride behind him. I want you two to ride the other one."

"What about the wagon, Pa?" Mary asked.

"I'll come back for it in the morning. I'd take him in it, but I need the horse to get him up the hill and I don't want to move him anymore than I have to. It might start the bleedin' again to try to get him in the wagon."

Darkness descended as her pa walked away. Standing there beside Mary, listening to the stranger moan, she was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. Her shoulders started shaking and she began to cry.

Mary came close and put her arm around her. She pulled her in real tight and held onto her as the two of them waited for their father to return. He appeared a few minutes later leading one of the horses. Laura took the lantern from him and held it up high as she could while Mary helped their pa lift the man up and onto the horse's bare back. Her sister kept hold while Pa climbed up behind the stranger, and then the two of them followed as he walked the animal back to the road. Her sister helped her up onto the other horse and then used a boulder to climb on its back.

Then the three of them and the man who had saved her headed for home.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Caroline had been peering out the window by the door for some time, waiting for Charles and the girls to appear. She'd been looking for Mary and Laura to come back from the Masons when Charles arrived home from his work at the mill. He'd agreed with her that it was getting too late for them to walk. Her handsome husband had grabbed a couple of pieces of bread and headed out the door almost before he made it all the way in. She was sure nothing was wrong. The girls had probably started out late. She knew how much Laura liked to play with Jennie Mason. Still, even though Walnut Grove was about as safe a place as there was for children to grow up in, there were untold dangers awaiting two young girls traveling alone after dark on the road.

As she dropped the curtain back into place, the blonde woman glanced into her youngest girl's room. Carrie was already asleep. She'd had a long day, poor thing. It started out that morning when their youngest had accidentally locked the outhouse door behind her, progressed through a fall from a stall wall into the cow pen, and ended with a disastrous visit to the creek where Carrie tumbled in and ruined her clothes. Caroline sighed. She was afraid she'd yelled at her about that last one. Money was so tight, it was all they could do to afford two sets of dresses and underpinnings for all the girls. She had a few scraps left over from a shirt she had made Charles.

She wondered idly what Carrie would look like in a dress made of that rugged blue and green plaid!

Crossing back to her rocking chair in front of the fire, Caroline picked her Bible up and sat down. Her evening prayers had driven her to a heartrending passage and she had put it down for a time, admittedly disturbed. Opening the worn book, she read Psalm Thirty, verses eight to ten once more.

'I cried to thee, O Lord; and unto the Lord I made supplication. What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? Shall it declare thy truth? Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me: Lord, be thou my helper.'

Caroline closed it again and placed her hand on the worn leather surface, wondering just who the plaintive words were for.

Unexpectedly, she heard the sound of horses' hooves striking the ground in the yard instead of wagon wheels rolling over it. Rising quickly, the blonde woman crossed to the door and threw it open and stepped outside. The moon was high now. She could see her two girls seated on the back of one of their team. Charles followed close behind on the other one.

He was holding someone in front of him.

"Charles, what happened?" she asked as she stepped off the stoop and approached him.

"No time now. I'll tell you about it when we get him settled," he said, his voice ragged. "Help me get this man off the horse and into the house. He needs help now."

Without another word she stepped up to help him, holding the man on the animal's back while Charles slipped off. Her husband grunted as he took hold of the stranger and pulled him down and then lifted him in his arms. They were about the same size, she thought, though Charles was more muscled. The stranger had silver-gray hair, but the body of a young man, so she wasn't entirely certain how old he was. He seemed a little bit younger than Charles.

His face, left arm, and leg were covered in blood.

"Grizzly," her husband offered in explanation as he carried him toward the house.

In spite of the fact that the action should have caused the stranger pain, he didn't make a sound. He must be unconscious, poor thing.

Looking at him, it was probably a mercy of God.

As they passed into the house, Charles said, "We'll put him in our bed for now. You can sleep with the girls tonight."

"Where will you sleep?" she asked as they reached the kitchen.

"I'm heading back into town. It isn't too late. If I can rouse Nels, I'll get him somethin' for the pain. Then I'm headin' out to Isaiah's. I'm hopin' Grace is up. If she is, I'm gonna have her send a letter in the morning to Doctor Baker in Sleepy Eye."

"Oh, that's right," she said as they reached the bedroom. "Hiram's away."

Charles grunted as he lowered the wounded man to their bed. Placing his hand under the man's head, he rested it gently on the pillow. Then he stood back and let out a long sigh.

"Is he still breathing?" she asked. She hadn't seen any movement since they'd taken him off the horse.

Charles sat beside the stranger. Leaning over, he placed his ear on the man's chest and listened. Finally he nodded. "He's breathin'. His heart's beatin' mighty fast. Kind of thin and thready."

She had always feared that Charles would come home in this condition from hunting one day. "You said it was a grizzly?"

"Yes." Her husband turned and looked toward the other room where their girls were waiting. "Whoever he is, we owe him a lot. He saved Half-pint's life."

"Oh, dear God!' she exclaimed as her hand flew to her lips.

Charles rose and took her in his arms. His breath was warm against her cheek as he spoke. "Mary caught me on the road. She was cryin' and scared. She told me there was a bear cub trapped in some berry bushes and that Laura was tryin' to help it." He smiled. "You know Half-pint, she was worryin' over it. The mama bear charged her and this man stepped in."

Caroline looked over her husband's shoulder at the stranger. "Who is he, Charles? Where did he come from?"

"I didn't see a horse. Bear probably scared it off. There might be somethin' in his pockets." He shook his head. "There's no pullin' his clothes off with those injuries. We'll have to cut them off and we can check his pockets then." He stared at the injured man. "I don't want to try to move that arm or leg, Caroline, but those wounds need cleaned. I didn't have any way to do it on the road." Charles shook his head. "Odds are, infection's gonna set in. I don't see much hope unless we can get Doc Baker back here soon."

"You go ahead, Charles. Mary can help me get his coat and shirt off and clean the wounds to his upper body and face. I'll send her out to boil some water while I remove the rest of his clothes and finish up with his leg." The blonde woman moved to the side of the bed and looked down at the wounded man. The moonlight spilling in the window struck his face. In spite of that silver-grey hair, she'd been right, he was young. His face was still unlined and actually quite handsome. Caroline sat beside him and shoved a matted mass of curls off his bloody forehead.

Her breath caught.

"What is it?" Charles asked, moving closer.

She looked up at her husband and then back at the man, and then up at Charles again.

"Why, Charles! He could be your younger brother."

Her husband nodded. She could see he had noticed the resemblance already. "My younger brother doesn't look a bit like me," he said with a hint of an ornery smile.

She batted his hand. "Get out of here. I have work to do."

He snorted and then leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Love you too. I'll be back soon."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Charles emerged into the kitchen he found Mary sitting alone at the table.

"Where's your sister?" he asked as he cast his gaze around the darkened interior.

"She said she had to go to the privy. She's awful upset, Pa. She thinks it's all her fault." His daughter's ice blue eyes went to the corridor he had just left behind. "Is he gonna die?"

"Not just yet," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder, "and if God's willin', not at all."

"Who do you think he is, Pa?"

"At the moment, I think he's a man in need," he replied. "That's all we need to know."

"Did you notice..." Her voice fell off.

"Notice what?"

"He was wearing a gun, Pa. Tied down to his leg."

"So?"

Mary's eyes were troubled. "Isn't that what gunfighters like the James' brothers do?"

Charles lifted his hand. "Not every man who ties his gun to his leg is an outlaw, Mary."

"But what if he is?"

He briefly touched her face. "He could be Jesse James himself, Mary, and we'd still owe him a debt. No matter who he is or what he's done, he saved your sister's life."

At that moment Caroline's voice rang out. "Mary, I need your help."

He lifted his hand. "There, your Ma's calling' you. You go help her, and don't you worry about who that man is. It's goin' to be a long time before it matters. If he makes it, he's got a lot of healin' to do."

"Yes, sir," she said as she rose from her chair. Mary took a couple of steps toward the hall and then turned and came back to give him a hug. "I love you, Pa," she said against his shirt.

"I love you too, darlin'." Charles kissed her shining hair. "Now, go help your ma."

The brown-haired man watched until Mary disappeared into the passageway and then went to the front door. Opening it, he stepped out into a brilliant wash of moonlight. It didn't take him long to spot Laura. She was sitting on the stump to the right of the pile of firewood that he and Caroline sometimes occupied.

He crossed over to her and stood there for a moment before saying anything.

"Mm-mm," he said at last, looking up and not at his child. "It's a mighty pretty night."

Laura wasn't looking up, she was looking down. Her elbows were on her knees and her chin rested on her rolled up fingers. "I don't see what's so pretty about it," she muttered.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

She shook her head and then scooted over so he could sit beside her on the stump.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "You're worried about the stranger."

He could see her little shoulders shaking. It took her a few seconds, but she managed a nod.

"You're afraid he's gonna die, is that it?"

"Oh, Pa!" she exclaimed, finally looking at him. "He wouldn't be hurt if it wasn't for me. I shouldn't have tried to help that baby bear. I should have just left it alone like you told us. It was just..." She sniffed and tears rolled down her cheeks. "I thought it was gonna die."

He nodded. "You're right. You should've left it alone." Charles paused. "Did you learn from your mistake?"

"I sure did, Pa, only...only...that don't help him any."

Charles took her hand in his. "Half-pint, one of the hardest lessons we have to learn is that there are consequences for our actions. Now, I know you didn't mean for that man to get hurt, but the choice you made had a part in it happenin'." At her horrified look, he added softly, "Still, whether or not he lives or dies isn't up to you or me. It's up to God. All the days ordained for you and me were written in God's book long before the first one of them came to be."

"That's from the Psalms, ain't it?"

He nodded. "One-thirty-nine. You know, Half-pint, the number of that stranger's days were written in God's book too before he was born. He ain't gonna die unless God wants him to. You can't take that on yourself."

Her voice was very quiet. "It's hard not to, Pa."

He rose to his feet. "I know. Best thing you can do now is stop sittin' out here feelin' sorry for yourself and go in there and ask your ma if there is anything you can do to help him. There's gonna be a load of work takin' care of that man and the only thing you can do for him now is be a part of it." Charles laid a hand on his daughter's brown head. "You understand what I'm sayin'?"'

Laura stood too. "Yes, sir," she said, her voice brightening a bit.

"Charles?"

He raised his hand from Laura's head and turned toward the door. Caroline was coming out of the house. She had a piece of paper in her hand. As she held it out to him, he noted it was half-ruined with blood.

"I found it in his coat pocket. It seems to be a list of names," she said in explanation. As he took it, his wife's finger pointed to one of the two that was partially obscured by the brown-red stains. Enough of it was showing to make out at the Christian name and the first initial of the man's surname.

Lars H., it said.

Charles sighed.

It seemed there would be a fourth stop on the long road to his bed tonight.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Caroline was waiting up for Charles. It was well after ten and he had been gone about three hours, but then, considering what he needed to accomplish – waking Nels, traveling out to the Edwards and connecting with Grace, returning to town and talking to Lars – she didn't really expect him until midnight.

Maybe later.

The girls were in bed and, she hoped, fast asleep. Laura had spent about an hour sitting at the stranger's bedside watching over the young man, holding his hand and talking to him like she did to her children when they were sick. It was sweet and sad at the same time. Laura felt terribly guilty about what had happened.

She hesitated to think what it might do to her sweet girl if the man died.

While Laura sat on the bed, Mary stood at the back of the room, staring at the forlorn figure on the bed. Caroline's lips curled in a little smile. Even though he wasn't all that much to look at right now with all the bruises and swelling, it was obvious he was a handsome man and she thought her oldest daughter might be just a bit smitten. It was one of those times when she was grateful for the large gap between their ages. While Mary was attracted to him, the man himself was old enough to be her father and would no doubt find her attention either irritating or amusing once he came back to himself.

She turned to look at the room where he lay.

If he came back to himself.

Caroline put down her sewing and rose from her chair and headed for the sick room. The last time she had checked on the young man he had been developing a fever. She'd brewed a bit of Feverfew tea in the hopes that she could get him to sip some when he woke up. Unfortunately, so far, he had not awakened and lay like one dead. His visible injuries were bad enough – a terribly torn arm, the ragged chewed leg, contusions and scratches over most of his body – but it was the internal injuries they feared. From what Laura said, the bear, which had probably weighed four or five hundred pounds, had slammed into the stranger full force and driven him to the ground. He had a great deal of bruising on his chest and abdomen that could be indicative of trouble within.

With care, she sat on the bed beside him. If he was sleeping naturally, she didn't want to wake him and at the moment she couldn't be sure. From that position she studied him. He was young. She'd put his age at thirty at most. More likely in his late twenties. His hair was thick and curly as Charles' and had as many shades of gray in it as a moonlit night. The thick strands went from white to a dark gun-metal shade, and all of it was shot through with silver. He was of an average height and well-proportioned; well-muscled too, though it seemed he might have lost bulk of late. He had about him the look of someone who has just weathered some kind of storm. At the moment he was wearing little more than his skin. She couldn't dress him without help. It would have caused him too much pain.

She hoped he wasn't too cold.

Leaning over Caroline gripped the top blanket, which had slipped down, and began to draw it up about his shoulders. She stopped at the sight of the right one. For such a young man he was covered with scars. He had obviously been shot and more than once. Taking hold of one of his hands, she noted that both had shiny smooth places with no color. They had been burned and not all that long ago.

She also noted as she touched him that his skin was incredibly hot.

Releasing his hand, Caroline leaned in and placed her own on the stranger's forehead. His fever was definitely rising. Between the bear's saliva and the fact that hair and other debris had been driven into his wounds, there had been little hope they could keep any infectivity contained. They really needed Doctor Baker. A regular illness was something she knew how to treat, but this was a different kind of infection.

As she tucked the blanket under his chin, the wounded man stirred. He moaned and his eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't open his eyes.

Caroline touched his arm. "You're safe," she said, seeking to reassure him. "Nothing will harm you here."

His eyes rolled beneath the lids. He tried to shift and groaned when he couldn't. A moment later his eyes opened and his lips quirked at the end in a little smile.

"What...hit me?" the stranger asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

Caroline was fighting for composure. With the exception of the color of his hair, it was like looking at Charles ten years before.

Even his eyes were green!

After a second, she replied, "A grizzly bear, I'm afraid."

"A bear...?" For a moment he was silent. Then, he grew agitated. "The...girl. There was...a little girl. She –"

"She's safe." She touched his cheek and waited until his eyes found her. "That was my daughter. You saved her. It's how you were hurt."

He licked his lips. "Dang fool...kid. Worried about...a...cub..."

She frowned. Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it gently. "We're so sorry. Laura... Well, trouble just seems to find her."

Again, there was that little smile.

"My pa always...says the same about...me." His eyes were fevered and slightly unfocused. "Who...?"

"Caroline Ingalls," she said. "You're in my house. My husband Charles brought you here."

The stranger frowned. "Where's...here?"

He was weakening. It wouldn't be long before he was unconscious again.

"You're just outside of Walnut Grove."

"Black...walnuts..." he said as he began to drift off.

Caroline suddenly realized she'd missed an opportunity. The injured man had been awake and she hadn't thought to ask him his name. She felt awful, but she reached out and touched his face and tried to call him back. "Please. Tell me who you are. We need to let your loved ones know what's happened."

His silvered brows knit together in the center as if he was in pain. "No...one left..."

"There has to be someone. You mentioned your father."

"Too far...away..."

"A name then. At least give me a name I can call you."

His lips parted. "My name...is Joe," he said.

A second later he was unconscious.

Caroline caressed his cheek as she would have one of her children's. Then she rose and went to the window and looked out at the black night, noting how crisp the stars were in the mid-autumn sky. At the moment the man in her bed was far from home and alone. He was severely injured and in danger of losing his life. But even more important he was someone, and somewhere there were people who loved him and missed him in spite of what he said.

She smiled as she looked at him again. He was a stranger no more.

He was Joe.