Though he was offered any bed in the house, Andy chose to sleep on the ground in the rangers’ camp near the barn. Rusty knew he felt suffocated by all the attention from the Monahans and their neighbors who had gathered in anticipation of an Indian raid. The rangers at least did not fawn over him.

Rusty was awakened by a shout of alarm. The sun was just beginning to rise. A night guard shouted again. “Everybody up. Indians comin’!”

Rusty cast off his blanket and grabbed for his boots, the only thing he had taken off the night before. He grasped his rifle and jumped to his feet. The night guard pointed.

In the dawn’s rosy glow Rusty saw more than a dozen Comanches standing their horses in a rough line. A single warrior moved out twenty yards in front of the others. He gestured with a bow and shouted words Rusty did not understand. He asked, “Andy, do you know what he’s sayin’?”

Andy listened, his face grim. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it go. “He’s makin’ a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“That’s Fights with Bears. He’s the one who had Billy”

“Well, he’s not gettin’ him back. Every last man here would die before they take that boy again.”

Andy shook his head. “He’s not askin’ for Billy. He’s askin’ for me.”

“You?”

“I shamed him. I stole Billy right out from under him while he was asleep. It’s a matter of pride.”

“You ain’t goin’ out there to him.”

Andy picked up the rifle he had recovered from the smugglers. He checked the load. “If I don’t they’ll charge down on this place.”

“We’ve got men and guns enough to whip them.”

“But whatil it cost? I’ve got people on both sides. I don’t want to see anybody dead.”

“That Indian wants to see you dead.”

“Maybe he’ll settle for somethin’ less.” Andy walked toward the lone warrior, the rifle cradled in his arms.

Rusty shouted, “For God’s sake come back here.”

Andy kept walking. He focused his main attention on Fights with Bears, but he tried to watch the line of Comanches to the rear as well. If they decided to rush him he would have no chance. But Bears was Andy’s immediate concern. The rest were likely to take their cue from him. Bears had no firearm that Andy could see. He held a lance and had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

Andy had the advantage. His rifle was loaded and cocked. He stopped twenty feet short of the horseman. He felt cold sweat on his forehead and hoped Bears could not see it. He said, “I am the one you asked for.”

Bears looked at the rifle. “You have come armed.”

“You are armed, too/’ The lance had a sharp-looking flint point, fashioned for killing buffalo. Bears could drive it all the way through Andy’s body if he so chose.

Bears’s eyes were fierce. “You stole the boy that belonged to me.”