Chace hesitated.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“And she sat at the table with us,” Charlotte finished.  “Didn’t the girls of your people have dolls?”

“Cornstalk dolls or stuffed heads on sticks and they didn’t sit at tables.”  Then he was suddenly different.

“Charlotte,” he said quietly.  “Stay still.  Don’t be afraid, but we’re going to have company.”  The rifle was always beside him when he rode in the wagon.  “I need you to reach back and get the Colt.  Keep it with you but out of sight.”

Then they traveled so long in silence that she began to wonder what he was talking about.  Suddenly three members of the tribes on horseback seemed to materialize like a mirage out of the tall grasses.  They appeared to be merely curious, but were as fully armed as Chace Yellow Cloud had been the first time she’d seen him.

“Fox,” he said.  “We’re lucky for that.”  He reined in the team.

The three sat abreast, talking amongst themselves and seemingly discussing what they saw before them.  Though she hadn’t thought of it in days, Charlotte became acutely aware again of her appearance.  She watched their reaction as Chace began speaking to them in his strange language.  A lengthy conversation ensued, interspersed with private consultations among the three, possibly a communications issue, Charlotte thought, wondering how one strange language could fit together with another strange language.  She noted the quiet certainty in Chace’s tone of voice, the calm he maintained that carried with it no hint of concern or threat.

Though he never turned her way, she understood that he was speaking to her.  “They want to know if you’re armed.  I told them you were.  So slowly bring up the Colt, but don’t aim it anywhere near them.”

“Oh my God,” Charlotte said, but she did as he’d asked.  She lifted the heavy pistol with two hands and pointed it far off on the other side of the trail.

More animated conversation ensued this time.  Some of it at least sounded appreciative and she remembered Chace’s reaction to the gun.

“They want you to shoot it.  Can you do that?”

“I think so.”  She straightened, tried to steady herself, squinted and fired out into the trees.

“Again.”

“There’s no way I can aim this thing.”

“There’s nothing out there, don’t worry about it.”

She fired off three more rapid shots and thought the Indians were going to fall off their horses.  Then with trembling hands she carefully lowered the gun till it was between her knees and pointing at the floor of the wagon.

More discussion followed, a back and forth that seemed far more involved.  Charlotte’s concern deepened.

“I’m going to put my hand on you,” Chace said evenly, still not looking at her.  “Don’t jump when I do.”

“I won’t.”