“This is no longer your home. It never can be again.”

“What can I do?”

“You were born white. We made you Comanche. Now you must be white again. By what name does your red-haired friend call you?”

“Andy. The name my mother and father gave me.”

“You are Badger Boy no more. You must be Andy now, and for however long you may live.”

Andy placed a hand against his heart. “I will always be Badger Boy. I will always be Comanche.”

Steals the Ponies embraced him. “To me you will always be Badger Boy. But to the others . . . it will be as if you never lived. You must never return here.”

Tears rolled down Andy’s cheeks as he clung to his Comanche brother. Steals the Ponies said, “Go now, you and the red-hair. Go far while the night can hide you.” He tore free of Andy. “Go. Forget.”

“I will not forget.”

“Then remember what is good in Comanche ways, but find your place in the white man’s world.” Steals the Ponies remounted his horse and rode off into the dusk. Shoulders sagging, Andy watched him until he disappeared.

Rusty’s heartbeat gradually slowed to near normal. His mouth was dry as powder. He rode down to the creek and dismounted. He knelt and cupped his hands, sipping from them as the cold water trickled between his fingers.

Andy came down to join him, his face mirroring his anguish. “My brother says I must go with you now.” His voice broke. “I go with you, or I die.”

Rusty knew it was his fault. Reluctant to cut the tie with Andy, he had ridden too far into a hostile land. “I’m sorry.”

Andy rubbed an arm across his eyes. It came away wet. “Too big to cry.”

“Sometimes it’s the best thing you can do.” Rusty hugged the boy and let him cry himself out.

“My brother says I must be white now.” Again Andy placed his hand against his heart. “But here, always, part of me will be Comanche.”

And you’ll never be sure just who you really are, Rusty thought darkly. He knew, for he had been there.

The boy pulled up onto his horse and reined it into the creek. “Soon be dark. We go long way in dark.”

Rusty’s throat was tight as he moved to catch up. More to himself than to Andy, he said, “A long way. But you have the longest road to travel.”

THE

WAY
of the Coyote

FOREWORD

The end of the Civil War did not end the problems on the Texas frontier. In some ways it intensified them. The ranger force had more or less disintegrated with the slow demise of the secession government. Like the rest of the old Confederacy, Texas was virtually broke and could not consistently pay its employees, much less meet all its other obligations. Indian problems remained as troublesome as ever. During the war, when so many young men went away to the army, many never to return, the Indians had taken advantage of weakened defenses and in some areas drove the line of settlement back fifty to seventy-five miles.