Hours later, Reese was woken by Parmalee, who looked worn both mentally and physically. Without a word, Reese pulled on his hat and buckled his gun belt and walked up the dirt trail to the cabin. A low light was burning inside, and even though he knew everyone was sleeping, he still felt strange going into a person's house uninvited. He took up his place beside the still-unconscious man and got out a deck of cards to play solitaire. He was into his second game when he heard a low moan. He glanced at Wasápe quickly, but nothing had changed, so he went back to his playing cards. About an hour later, when he grew tired of cards, he stood up and stretched, taking a few steps around, trying to be quiet on the old floor boards. When he turned around, he noticed that Wasápe's blanket looked as though it had fallen partially off the cot. "How did that happen? Maybe I snagged it when I was going by."

Feeling like a mama tucking in a child, he pulled the blanket back up around the young man's throat. "There, now. All snuggly." He smirked slightly at the picture, then gasped when he noticed that the previously sleeping eyes were now open. "Well howdy," he said friendlily. Those dark eyes continued to stare. They were so dark Reese had a hard time telling if they were black or brown. Somewhere in the middle, he supposed.

The patient's hand came up from under the blanket, touching the side of his head gingerly. "A bullet bounced off of your head, there," Reese informed. "You must have quite the noggin'."

Wasápe groaned and struggled to sit up, putting his legs over the side of the cot. Reese moved to help him, but Wasápe thrust out a hand to stop him. Well, at least tried to. It was at this moment when Wasápe realized that his hand was handcuffed to the cot. Reese felt guilty as he watched the young man jerk at the cuff with a bit of panic in his eyes. "Now, now, big fella, that won't do you any good," Reese said, trying to calm him down. "We best not be wakin' the whole house, you know."

Wasápe glared so powerfully at him that Reese almost wanted to turn away, but the young man ceased his yanking. "Why you doin' this? I done you no harm."

There was that perfect Texas accent again. It was just so strange to hear such a voice coming from such a Comanche-looking individual. "Well," Reese began, "me and my pard are actually Texas Rangers, and I hate to have to tell you, but you're under arrest."

Wasápe's face did not change from its stone-like mask. "Really."

Reese was confused. "Uh, yes, really. You stole a horse from the reservation and took off. Texans don't take a likin' to folks of your…uh…kind runnin' 'round the countryside. Like to scare a few of them into takin' a shot at most anybody."

"My kind, huh?" Wasápe growled. "I don't even know what my kind is anymore. How should anyone else?"

"Kinda in a tight spot, ain't you? Well, I was in the same place as you once. Mended my sorry ways though because now, I'm a Ranger." Reese couldn't say those last few words too many times. Even still pride swelled his chest.

Wasápe's eyebrow arched. "Are you suggesting that I join up with the Rangers?"

Reese spread his hands. "Why not? They don't care none about what you've done, just so long as you can shoot and ride."

"No sir. The day I join the Rangers is the day…well, it ain't never gonna happen."

Shrugging, Reese said, "Suit yourself. I reckon you'll have plenty of time to think over your mistake sittin' in jail."

Wasápe attempted to cross his arms but was hampered by the handcuffs, so he settled with laying back down with a huff.

The rest of the night passed in silence. Reese felt sorry for the young man but knew there was nothing that anyone could do for him. The only way he could get out of going to jail would be to join up with the Rangers, and even that wouldn't be for certain. The Rangers didn't just accept you straight off. Besides, the army might want him back on the reservation, white blood or not, since he stole that horse.

By the early morning hours, Reese's eyes were itchy and tired. He remembered his bunk at the barracks with much longing, even though it was almost as hard as sleeping on the floor. The young man did not appear to have slept much either. His eyes were pinched in pain, though Reese suspected it was as much mental as physical.

Just as the first rooster crowed, the door opened to the bedroom. Ellen entered, looking disheveled and exhausted, like she had gotten minimal sleep. She headed straight to Wasápe, and Reese stood to get out of the way. She lifted the bandage, gently tugging it loose from the dried blood. She washed the wound with some water that was left in the pan from last night. Wasápe said nothing throughout the procedure, nor did he lift his eyes to the kind woman's face. She hovered over him for a moment, and then sadly turned away.

The morning seemed to pass by agonizingly slow. Reese was relieved by Parmalee, and after breakfast, he went to the barn to take a nap. The two rangers took turns guarding the prisoner because though his head was not completely healed, he looked like he could still be a fair match in a fight with either of them.

When it appeared that Wasápe's dizziness was subsiding during the evening, Parmalee announced that the rangers would be leaving in the morning…with Wasápe. Even though the little family knew this was coming, they all broke out in fresh tears.

Morning dawned despite wishes it never would. With solemn hearts everyone prepared for the departure. Reese made sure the horses were sound and ready to go. He couldn't find an extra saddle in the barn, but he deduced that Wasápe had stolen the horse without one. It would only make sense, him being raised as an Indian and all.

The sergeant held a gun on Wasápe while Reese unlocked the cuff on the bed frame, feeling nervous as Wasápe's arm tensed under his hand. He whispered to the young buck, "Don't try it. Wouldn't want these youngins to see your brains splattered across the kitchen wall, would you?" These words seemed to deflate any anger in the young man, and he meekly accepted assistance standing from Reese. When Reese went to lock the other cuff around Wasápe's wrist, the young man said in a low voice, "Let me say goodbye first." He hesitated, whispering in a strained voice, "Please." Reese looked at Parmalee, who nodded his head.

Wasápe started with Idabelle. Her pretty face was so red and pinched from her efforts to hold in sobs she looked like she might explode. She embraced her surrogate brother with a fierceness that pushed the breath out of his lungs. "You be careful," she said, choking slightly.

Next was Joey, who was openly crying. Wasápe crouched to where he was at the boy's eye level. "You take care of the women while I'm gone, right?"

The boy threw his arms around Wasápe's neck. "No-o-o! I want to come with you!"

"No, no, Joey. These gals need lookin' after. Be a man while I'm gone and see that no harm comes to them." He gently pulled the boy's arms off his neck and stood. Holding out one hand, he shook with the young boy.

"I'll do it," whimpered Joey. "You won't have to worry none about it."

Wasápe smiled and nodded. As soon as he released Joey's hand, the boy wrapped his skinny arms around his sister, who reciprocated.

Ellen stood by the door, her eyes dry. She had shed all her tears during the night. Her hand brushed Wasápe's face before she gently tugged on one braid as a signal for him to extend his head. She kissed his cheek and then held her lips close to his ear, whispering something. Reese saw him nod briefly before he gathered the much smaller woman into his arms, kissing her forehead. He pulled away, her hand still on the end of his braid, looking as though she was unwilling to let go. Her eyes took him like she expected to never see his face again. Finally, let go of his hair and stepped back. "We'll be here…when you come back over that hill. Goodbye…son."

The men all walked outside, after which Wasápe turned toward Reese with hands extended. The ranger wordlessly attached the other cuff to the young man's wrist. Reese could have sworn he'd seen wooden statues whose faces had more expression than the young man's.

"Mount up," Parmalee commanded. Reese held the bridle of the cavalry horse so he wouldn't shy away. Wasápe jumped up effortlessly onto the horse's bare back, but then swayed dangerously from the effects of the concussion. Reese put one hand on his leg to steady him but retreated when he received a menacing glare.

The family stood in the dog run, all holding onto each other. As the men started to ride away, Wasápe looked at them once, his shoulders hunched and head held low. He turned away and did not look back.