She touched the handkerchief to her eyes. “I had a dream last night. I know you all will think it was nothing more, just a dream, but it was more. I saw Michael. I heard him. He was bad hurt—wounded—lying on the ground somewhere all by himself. I could hear him calling for me. I could hear him so plain—” A tear ran down her cheek, but she made no move to stop it. She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “There is something—I don’t know how I can tell it so you will understand—always I have been able to sense things with Michael. I have known what he was thinking before he told me. It is like his mind talks to me even when he does not speak.

“Always I have felt that Michael was all right, that he was alive. I still feel that he is alive. But I feel that something is wrong, that he is hurt, that he needs me, and I do not know where to go to find him.”

James glanced at Andrew and Frank. “You want us to go hunt for him?”

Marie’s eyes reflected her anguish. “I do not know where to tell you to start. And it could be dangerous if Santa Anna comes.”

James said, “It’ll be dangerous here if Santa Anna comes.”

Andrew motioned for James and Frank to follow him back out onto the dog-run. His brow was furrowed. He glanced at the door to be sure it was closed, so Marie would not hear what was said. “If it was somebody besides Marie, I’d be inclined to say it was just a woman worried to the point of gettin’ a little hysterical. But Marie’s never been one for that kind of thing. She’s never one to scare at much of anything. You can see she’s scared now.”

James said, “I wish I knew how we could help her.”

Andrew stared out across the prairie, his eyes bleak. “Only one thing we can do. We’ve got to try to find Michael.”

Frank nodded agreement. James could not remember his ever disagreeing with Andrew about anything. “But where do we start?”

Andrew declared, “You don’t start anywhere. Somebody’s got to stay here to watch after the womenfolk and the young’uns. If the Mexicans do come, and me and James haven’t got back, somebody’s got to be ready to take the families to safe ground. That’s apt to be the toughest job of all.”

Frank was a couple of years older than Andrew, and in many families that would automatically have given him the unspoken authority to make the plans, to delegate the responsibilities. But Frank did not argue with Andrew. “If that’s what you want me to do—”

“It is,” Andrew said. “You’re dependable and levelheaded, and you’ve got a wife and kids of your own. You’ll do it right.” Andrew turned to James. “With all due respect, little brother, you’re too young for that job. I’m afraid you might take too many chances. We can’t afford that with our families.”