She made a face at that. "It's a beautiful morning. I just felt like going for a ride."

"At this hour of the morning? Didn't know you were such a nature lover." Audra didn't look too innocent at that, and an imp provoked him to add, "Don't suppose you'd mind a little company on your nature-ride."

No, she certainly wasn't innocent. She flamed up and said haltingly, "But don't you have work to do? I wouldn't want to keep you." Inspired, she added, "Or get in trouble with Nick."

"Oh, you let me worry about Nick. There's nothing so pressing that it can't wait til afternoon. Or is this going to take all day?"

"All day," she said impulsively.

"Well, then, there's nothing that can't wait til tomorrow. Lucky I packed a lunch. Let me just saddle up Charger here and we'll be off."

Audra fumed as she walked Trickster out of the barn. No point in running for it; Charger would catch her little quarter in no time. No, Heath would stick to her like a burr. Maybe she could bore him into turning back.

"Which way, madame?" he asked, grinning.

"East," she said shortly, and they rode out.

A ways down the road, she caught sight of Heath smiling to himself. "What are you grinning at, you big lug?"

"You. You never do learn, do you? If you'da just said, sure, come on along, you'da killed my interest right off. But, no, you have to be all mysterious. Audra, I'd think you'd know how to manage brothers better by now. So where are we goin, anyway?"

She looked at him distrustfully, which only increased his amusement. "Oh, come on. Count your blessings. You're lucky to have caught me rather than Nick."

"Oh, you think so?"

"Well, sure. I'm no so quick to tattle on you as Nick. I don't recall mentioning to anyone that I saw you talking real particular with Billy Harden the other day. Yes, real particular."

Audra lifted her chin disdainfully. "I don't think that's even worth discussing."

"Which is why I didn't. So, fess up. What's your hurry? I don't think it's Billy Harden; we're goin the wrong way."

"It's not Billy Harden. Promise you won't tell?"

"If it's not too dangerous. Foolish I can keep to myself."

She flushed. "Well, I suppose it is a little foolish. But-well, I heard there's some gypsies camped out on the old Nevada road. Supposedly there's a real fortune teller there. I want to have my fortune told."

Heath frowned. "Gypsies? Our gypsies? But it's not the right time for them. They usually don't pass this way for another month or two. And you must have seen old lady Liana before."

Audra pouted. "I have. And I think she's a fake. These aren't our gypsies, this is a different group."

His frowned deepened. "Audra, were you really plannin on ridin into a strange gypsy camp-just to get your palm read? I'm afraid that's too stupid to let pass."

"They've never done any harm before."

"You don't know these folks. If it was Mariano and his crew-well, that'd be different. I'm that glad I caught up with you, missy. You don't know what kinda trouble you could be ridin into."

"There won't be any trouble. You know the terrible things people-even Nick!-used to say about Mariano's crew, and they've never caused the least little bit of trouble. People just are afraid of gypsies just because they don't know them." Audra knew she couldn't have hit on any argument more likely to soften him, and it did. But not completely. "I hope you're right. But, Audra, you get any other such ideas, just ask me. I'm willin to keep your secrets but not let you run foolish risks. Y'hear?"

"I hear, I hear." She gave him a brilliant smile. "Have I told you recently that you're my very favorite brother?"

"Nice try, but I'm still goin with you, Sis."

Nick reached the barn, expecting to find Heath waiting for him. Instead he found Ciego alone, and two small figures disappearing in the east. "Where's Heath?" he asked.

Ciego shrugged. "He and Miss Audra, they go together."

Nick gave an angry grunt. "Where are they going?"

"They no say, Mr. Nick."

"Well," Nick said dryly. "I don't think Audra was planning on helping him round up strays in Sky Meadow. Not that she'd be any help. And they're riding the wrong way. I suppose they're just off on some pleasure jaunt." He turned to Ciego. "When Heath gets back you send him straight to Sky Meadow. This is a working ranch. He's got cattle to ride herd on, much less our sister." Nick mounted and rode off; even his dust was annoyed.

Ciego shrugged to himself. He had no idea where the two younger Barkleys were going, but he wouldn't have told Nick, anyway. These Barkleys. He liked them very much, but didn't understand them. What was the point of so much work, work, when they were young and rich? He saw no reason why the two shouldn't have a day off. A morning like this, even in this valley, was too good to waste rounding up strays. Mr. Nick wouldn't see it that way; but Ciego's sympathies were all with the younger two.

Heath asked, "So why're you so hot to have your fortune told? Didn't Liana tell yours last fall?"

"Yes, she did, and she said I'd marry a tall, dark-haired man with a mustache."

Heath frowned. "She told me I'd marry a tall, dark-haired woman."

"You see? She gives everyone the same fortune!"

"Well, in my case, she didn't mention a mustache-fortunately. But I see what you mean. I know plenty of ladies I'd call dark-haired, but none tall." He frowned. "I wonder if she meant taller'n me? That'd be pretty funny."

"Oh, hush."

"So what's wrong with that fortune, anyway?"

"I don't like mustaches."

The silliness of the complaint, and the miserable tone in which it was delivered, made him want to laugh, but he suppressed the urge and, in his most understanding tone, he said, "If you could get him to marry you I reckon you could get him to shave the mustache, Audra."

"Oh, you. Nobody takes me seriously." She struggled to explain herself. "I don't just want to know who I'm going to marry, or what he looks like."

"I thought that's what girls all wanted to know."

"Exactly. But that's not all I care about! I'm so bored sometimes. You and Nick and Jarrod-you're free to go all over, get into all kinds of trouble."

"We don't go lookin for trouble, Audra."

"No, but, still-you're free to find it. I go to committee meetings and Bible school classes and the dressmaker-I never really get to do anything. Nothing exciting ever happens to me."

Thinking of her encounters with Evan Miles and some of her other romantic misadventures, he said gently, "That's not quite true, Audra. If you're just talkin about trouble, more'n a little's found you."

"I'm not just talking about trouble, Heath. I'd like-well, a little adventure."

He sympathized with her-to a point. When he'd first met her she'd said she wanted to be like Nick, and take nothing from nobody. But she also felt, strongly, the competing demands of being a well-behaved young lady. The latter did not leave much room for the exercise of the former. But while he sympathized, she also roused all his protective instincts as well, and he, like his brothers, preferred to she her frustrated rather than harmed.

It was on the tip of his tongue to give a little lecture about how hard the world was, and what dreadful things happened out there. But she looked so innocent, and so hopeful. He didn't want to spoil the conspiratorial, confiding air bewteen them. Raised by women, he loved and valued them more than most men; a sister was naturally to be treasured and protected. Perhaps because of the novelty, or because they were closer in age, he found it easier to take her side and understand her impulses than did either of the other Barkley sons.

Instead, he said, "So Billy Harden don't count as an adventure? What would?"

"Of course he's no adventure-I've known him since I was six. He was a stick then and he's a stick now. No, I'd-I'd like to save the herd in a stampede. Or put out a fire. Something like that."

He laughed. "Oh, little things like that. Well, Miss Barkley, I'll see what I can do. We're short a few hands. Maybe Nick would sign you on. But I warn you, he'll make you ride drag. You won't like all that dust in your hair."

"Oh, you-my appearance is not the only think I think of."

The sun was now well overhead. Heath looked at his watch. "Did you say this fortune teller was on the Nevada road-or is she in Nevada?"

"On this road, that's all I know."

"Another hour or two and we'll be in Knotsville. A ghost town, that's a good place for a band of fortune tellin gypsies."

"I doubt it's that far. Isn't that a wagon up there?"

"I believe so. Well, prepare to have your palm read-and your purse lightened."

There was a single large old Conestoga pulled off on the side of the road, covered with a gaily printed tarp. A man, dressed in a shabby monk's robe, dozed beside the wagon. He seemed surprised to see the two riders. "We expected only one visitor this morning," he murmured. His English seemed good, but marked with a strong, musical accent. To Heath's ears it didn't sound like Mariano's. And what was this expecting business?

"My sister'd like to have her fortune told," Heath said. "You have come to see Sister Anastasia," the monk said.

"Sister Anastasia?" Heath said doubtfully. "You've got a gypsy fortune-telling nun in there?"

"She is a holy woman, a woman of God, a woman blessed with second sight," the monk said reverently.

Heath had a little more experience with nuns than Audra, and this all seemed highly unlikely to him. "Audra, I don't like this. Let's get on back."

"We've come this far," Audra said. "Let's just find out."

"This way." The monk gestured toward the back of the wagon. Audra lifted the flap.

There was no nun inside, gypsy or otherwise. There was instead a man wearing a mask over his face, a gun leveled at Audra. Before Heath could react he felt the muzzle of another pistol pressing into his back. His gun was quickly removed from its holster. "How good of you to come, Miss Barkley," the monk said. "Your guest is unexpected-but not unwelcome. Your brother?"

"I'm her brother," Heath growled. "And whatever you're up to you won't get away with."

"But of course we will," the monk said smoothly. "Hands behind, Mr. Barkley. You see your sister is quite well covered. I recommend no foolishness. It would be a terribly pity to harm such a charming young lady-especially when harm is neither necessary or even desired. We have no wish to harm either of you." Heath's wrists were now tightly bound behind him. The monk moved on to tie Audra as well. They were prodded into the wagon with the pistol. Once there, the man inside bound there feet as well.

The monk pulled off the brightly painted tarp and shoved it into the back. He also shed his monk's costume; now he looked just like any other drover or tinker to be seen wandering the summer roads in the valley. "Keep the flap down," the monk said. "No need for our esteemed guests to know their destination. Mr. Barkley, Miss Barkley, I do not wish to have to blind or gag you. I will if necessary-as I will do anything else necessary. Again, we mean no harm. Your cooperation will ensure that no harm occurs. I leave your actions to your own good sense. Pietro, keep a sharp eye on them, but keep the gun out of range. I fear Mr. Barkley may have some heroic notions."

The flap was tied down. Soon after the wagon began to move, surprisingly fast for how worn it had looked. Despite being bound, Heath maneuvered to keep his body between Audra and the gun. His movements made Pietro laugh. "You Anglos, so courteous!" His English, too, was rather good, and also heavily accented.

"What're you going to do with us?" Heath asked.

"Why, nothing, as good Mateo has said. We will-borrow?-you for a day or two. Your family will pay much money for your safe return. We will take money and vanish. You will return to your family with no trouble. A happy ending for all, yes?"

Heath doubted it would be so simple. Audra huddled close to him, her face pressed against his shoulder. Well, she wanted an adventure. It looked like they'd get one, in spades.

It seemed to Heath that they rode in the wagon for at least two hours. He also figured they were on the Nevada road most of the way, as there was little bouncing or turning. He guessed they were headed for the deserted village of Knotsville, which had been badly ravaged by flooding several years ago and never rebuilt because a dam was constructed nearby. Good hideout, well away from any prying eyes; and by sticking to a main road, they would leave few tracks were following. What about their horses? He'd tied Charger and Trickster down, but not carefully. The monk-Mateo?-hadn't brought the horses with them; nor had Heath heard him shy them away. The horses might stand all day, waiting to be untied. Unfortunately they were both good, well-behaved horses; unlike Randy or Jingle they wouldn't necessarily get impatient and try to break away. Even if they did, it would be hours before they'd get back to the ranch-if they headed straight home to begin with.

No, it seemed to Heath that assistance, if there would be any, would be an awfully long time in coming-not for a good twelve hours or more. If they were to make it through this alive it would be up to the two of them alone. With only two captors...Heath didn't quite believe the story about meaning no harm. And yet they were like no other criminals he'd ever encountered before. Despite their accents they seemed well-educated-almost gentlemanly. "You're pretty free with your names," he said suddenly. "Aren't you worried you can be tracked by that?"

"We are free with our names because they are not our names. Mateo, Pietro...good apostles all. No, we will not be tracked. And we all look the same, yes? Gypsy, Magyar, whatever. We will not be found by these little tricks. But you are thinking, Anglo. That is good. Good thinking will save your life-and that of the lovely sister as well."

Pietro's dark eyes insolently lingered over what could be seen of Audra, then lazily turned back to Heath. Heath could not see, but could sense, the grin beneath the man's bandana. It was understood between the two of them, then, that Audra was the wildcard that could upset all these well-laid plans. Heath would kill to protect her...and Pietro might be willing to risk everything to have her. Pietro knew his captive's weak point. What he would do with his knowledge was uncertain.

When the wagon finally stopped it was well into the afternoon. By then both Audra and Heath were thirsty and hungry, but Pietro merely shrugged at their request for food or water. He did cut the bonds on their feet so that they could get out of the wagon more easily.

They were in Knotsville. Most of the town had been leveled by flood. A few buildings still remained, but they had been rendered inhabitable by the mud left behind. No effort to clean up or preserve the village had been made, since the dam's construction came soon after the flood. Easy enough to hide the wagon and the horses in one of the few remaining buildings...

Heath was disheartened to see a third man; the lower part of his face was also obscured by a bandana. He carried a broom, and he was busy destroying any tracks left by the wagon. Mateo now also wore a bandana. He told Pietro to store the horses and wagons in what was once a saloon. Pietro told him, "If you wish the man to obey, keep the gun on the sister."

Mateo followed his advice, keeping a pistol trained on Audra as he directed them into the basement of a ruined house. Even after all these years there remained a rank wetness in the air, as if there were still a thick coating of river mud on the floor.

Still, some preparations had been made. There were lamps and matches in the basement; Mateo soon lit a few of them. There were paper, pen, and ink on an overturned crate. Most encouragingly, there was a small pile of supplies, food and blankets. Perhaps Mateo didn't intend to starve them after all.

Heath sensed Mateo was a softer man than Pietro; he wanted to make him talk. "So," Heath asked. "How does this work? How do you get a demand to our family without getting caught?"

"Gianni-he of the broom-will ride this afternoon. A message will be left on your family's doorstep under cover of darkness."

"It won't be that easy," Heath said. "By nightfall we'll be missed. There'll be search parties out all over."

"Indeed-but I doubt they will be searching your doorstep. No, Gianni will be able to get through without being caught. He will give instructions for the delivery later."

"How much are we worth?" Heath asked.

"One hundred thousand dollars," Mateo said proudly.

"One hundred thousand dollars!" Audra gasped.

"Surely such a lovely daughter, alone, is worth so much," Mateo said with a little bow.

"You don't understand," Heath said. "That's a powerful lot of cash money. I doubt there's that much cash in Stockton and San Francisco put together. Even if the family could raise it they couldn't do it that quick. How long are you keeping us?"

"Your family will have until sundown tomorrow to gather the money."

Heath shook his head. "It can't be done that quick. Maybe with time-but not in one day! I told you, there ain't that much cash in San Francisco!"

"That is your family's problem, not mine. If they wish the safe return of their children, they will find the money. Where, or how, is not my problem." Mateo took out a knife and cut the bonds around Audra's hands. "If you will sit a moment, please." Audra looked doubtfully at Heath; when he nodded, she sat. Mateo removed the tortoiseshell clip that held back her hair. With the knife he cut a small lock. "To prove to your family," he said. He put pen and paper before Audra. "A short note to your mother, asking her cooperation."

He turned to Heath. "From you, Mr. Barkley, we will need a little more. A little show of blood is always most convincing."

Heath stiffened and backed away. Audra gasped, "Blood! No, don't!"

"A little nick, nothing harmful," Mateo said.

"A little show of blood, most convincing," Pietro snapped. He had come down into the basement quickly and quietly, still carrying a gun. He fired once.

At close range the force was enough to knock Heath back against the wall and then down to his knees. The bullet caught him low on the left side, just above his belt. Luckily it passed through without hitting either of his arms, but that was all the luck there was to it. At first there was no pain, and the numbness allowed him to stay up on his knees, so he could at least see what was going on.

Audra screamed and tried to rise, but Mateo forced her back down. But Mateo was furious at this disruption. "Pietro! I told you-this taking for money is not a serious crime. But if he dies-all our plans could be ruined!"

Pietro snorted. "A big strong American cowboy-he won't die from a little nick like that. And you've got a convincing show of blood. Surely now the family will hurry."

"It was a foolish, needless risk to take," Mateo growled. "You!" He said to Audra. "Write the note. Then you can go to your brother. Write!"

Her eyes blurred with tears, her hands unsteady, she wrote, Mother, they're already hurt Heath and I'm very scared. Please hurry. Mateo looked the note over, nodded, and blotted it. "Very good. Now, a few rules, Miss Barkley. There is only one exit-through the trap door. It will be guarded always. Any attempt to escape will be dealt with harshly. You may scream, but you will not be heard, and your screams may make us angry, so I recommend you save your breath. You will be quiet?"

Audra nodded. "My brother..."

"If you are obedient there will be no further harm to either of you. Tomorrow night you will be back in your big feather beds and all will be well." He cast a glance at Heath. "But if there is any trouble-if you cause any delay-well, Miss Barkley, I am sure you are anxious to get home. I'm sure I can leave you free to care for your brother without worrying about any foolish escape attempts. Am I correct?"

Audra nodded again.

"Very well. Food and water will be sent down to you. Remember, your life-and your brother's-depends on your absolute obedience."

"Why should we trust you?" Heath said, breathing heavily. "You've already broken your promise."

"An unfortunate misjudgement by my partner, which will not be repeated unless you give cause. We want only the money; we do not want violence." Mateo looked at Heath sharply. "I am sure you do not want any more, either. Pietro. Give these to Gianni."

"But we need one thing more," Pietro said. He took out his own knife and came towards Heath. Grinning, he cut a large swath, some of it bloodstained, from Heath's shirt. "You of course wish this delivered as well."

"Indeed," Mateo said icily. He took the swath and the knife from Pietro, and herded him up the stairs. The trap door closed, followed by a scraping sound, as if a heavy object were being moved over the trap door.

For a long moment after the trap door closed Audra couldn't move. The air of unreality was strong; it was not possible that the morning's little gambol had turned into this nightmare. But she was here, trapped in a dank basement in a ghost town; and Heath was hurt. She could not lose her head now, or give way to her fear. Controlling the trembling in her hands, she undid Heath's bonds, straightened out his legs so he was sitting more comfortably. Since the shirt had been cut away she could see the injury clearly, a small round hole in front, a slightly larger one in back. Neither looked too terrible, but they both wept dark, thick blood with every pulse. She looked around for something she could use as a bandage. "Tear off my shirt tail," he suggested.

She was about to do as he suggested when her own sleeves caught her eye. Billowing full sleeves, white linen, just laundered. Much more suitable. She took off her vest and impatiently undid the many small mother-of-pearl buttons adorning the blouse and cuffs. Heath was upset. "Audra, don't-

"Don't worry, Heath, I'm just using my sleeves. They won't see my shimmy." How hard it was to tear, though! But the cambric of his workshirt would probably have been worse. She had to work at the linen with her teeth before she could tear it. One sleeve made two nice squares; the other, torn lengthwise, to hold the squares in place. She carefully laid the two squares in place, then secured them with the longer piece. At least it looked nice and clean. She looked at him questioningly.

He nodded, gave a small smile. "Very good job." Something had been nagging at him. "Why would they expect us, Audra? Don't normally go out that way."

Now Audra's careful control threatened to disintegrate. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. "I got a note," she said softly. "I didn't hear about it in town."

"Where's the note?" Heath asked. Maybe someone'd find it...

"I brought it with me." She looked up at last, her eyes bright with tears. "Oh, Heath, I'm such a fool! And now I've gotten you in this mess, too. It's all my fault."

Heath cursed himself for not having asked her more questions. But he'd liked the idea of deviling her and leaving behind a morning's work...No, if she were at fault, he was hardly less so. More, really; she was his little sister, he was suppose to be older and wiser. Now he was in a damned poor position even to help her, much less protect her.

He patted her clumsily. "Don't start cryin now, Sis. There'll be plenty of time for layin blame when we get home-and there's enough to go around. We'll both have to take a good scoldin from Nick, I reckon." When she started to protest, he said more firmly, "I'm serious, Audra. Can't waste anything on bein sorry now. We just got to get through this."

She blinked her tears away, wiped her nose, showed him the bravest face she could muster. He appreciated the effort. The numbness was wearing off; soon, he knew, he'd been in pretty bad shape for a bit. But he couldn't let Audra see; it might upset her too much. "You must be hungry," he said. "See if there's any worth eatin over there."

Audra inspected the small pile of goods. There were cans, but no can opener about. But there was some hardtack, some pemmican, and a canteen. They were all stale, including the water, but not yet rotten. She offered them to Heath, who just shook his head. Anything going down, he figured, would just as soon come up; but she needed to eat, drink. If they were getting out of here she would have to do most of the work.

His mind drifted while she ate. The basement was dank and closed, yet the lamp burned cleanly. And right here, against the wall, the air was not bad. In fact, it was strangely clean. There was almost a small whistling sound. "Audra," he said at last. "Is the air right here better?"

Audra got up, walked around, sniffing. When she came back she said slowly, "There is something different over it. And it's strange-it's not by the trap door, where there might be gaps. But we must be completely underground here, Heath."

"Must be." But it couldn't be his imagination; she smelt it too. The walls were mostly mud. Here and there, though, what looking like framing lumber showed through. The mud might be a remnant of the flood rather than the actual building material. Maybe...

It was difficult to keep track of his thoughts and keep rein on his expression. Weariness was taking him over. "Audra," he muttered. "I'm gonna rest a little. Shut my eyes for a few. You just...you just..."

Her nice linen bandages were already getting stained. She shook out one of the blankets and wrapped it around him. Even in this condition his bulk was comforting. She leaned against the mud wall, her arms tight around him, his head heavy against her. She would have liked to sink down into the comfort of sleep and blankness, but one of them, she thought, had to stay awake. Looking for a way out.

The absence of Heath and Audra from lunch was an annoyance, but not yet a worry. Nick was particularly incensed. Audra didn't have chores to do around the ranch and could go gallivanting how and where she chose. But Heath was a different matter. Nick relied on Heath to be where he himself couldn't be. At this time of the year there was more than enough work to keep two bosses busy. True, there wasn't anything going undone that absolutely had to be done that day. But it was a bad habit, and not one Nick wanted encouraged. His mood was not improved when Silas let slip that both Heath and Audra had taken lunch in their bags. Privately Victoria agreed with Nick-to a point. On the other hand, why shouldn't the two youngest have an occasional day off? Lord knows Heath was conscientious enough. And she felt a little better knowing that Audra wasn't off somewhere alone. She was a high-spirited girl, but not always a cautious one, and Heath could act as a brake on her wilder impulses, much as he did with Nick. The closeness between Heath and Audra had pleased her for that very reason, as did the awareness that Audra, even more than Victoria herself, was the one member of the family whose affection Heath took wholeheartedly and unquestioningly. They could not have been closer if they'd been children together.

But by supper time even Victoria was concerned. A day's frolic, without any word to any of them, was all well and good. It was strange that neither had mentioned their plans. But it was unforgiveable that supper time should come and there still be neither hide nor hair of them. Neither Heath nor Audra was so thoughtless as that. Nick was still, at least superficially, angry, but Jarrod shared her concern. They waited supper nearly an hour before Victoria said, "We can't wait any longer. Something must have happened. Nick, I want you to gather up some of the hands and look for them."

It was the release Nick had been waiting for; his own anxiety had been growing, and he could find relief only in action. He organized two search parties and sent Ciego into town for the sheriff. Jarrod agreed to stay behind with Victoria, just in case, although he, too, wanted to be out and active.

Victoria and Jarrod were still lingering in the paddock when Nick came back, with Charger and Trickster in tow. His face was grim. Both of the horses were unharmed, unscathed, with the saddles still tightly cinched. Charger's rein was still knotted and held a short length of branch. The saddlebags were still on, with the lunches inside. Whatever happened hadn't involved an accident with the horses-and it had happened hours ago.

Back in the house, after Nick set out again, Jarrod tried to think of an innocent explanation. "They could have gone for a walk and gotten lost. It's warm enough tonight if they have to spend the night outdoors."

Victoria shook her head. "They wandered so far they couldn't find the horses? And left their lunch? No, Jarrod. Whatever it is-Is that a horse I hear?"

They were still in the kitchen; Jarrod had to strain to hear. "I think you're right." As they ran toward the front door the hoofbeats grew louder. There was a thump at the door; then the hoofbeats turned away.

Jarrod ran after the horseman. In the dark, on foot, he had no hope of catching him, but he followed long enough to see the rider head east. He was about to grab a horse and continue the chase when he heard Victoria calling him.

The thump had been caused by a small, tightly wrapped parcel hitting the porch. Victoria had opened it and was examining its contents in the light from the open door. What she saw made her gasp.

The outer wrapping of the parcel was a sheet of paper with letters pasted on. We have her. 100,000 dollars in cash tomorrow instructions tomorrow. "Ransom," Jarrod whispered. "But it only mentions `her.' How do we know they have Audra?"

"Look," Victoria said simply. The next layer contained only a few words, but they both recognized Audra's hand. They've already hurt Heath... "This comb-it's Audra's. And the hair..." There was no mistaking the long strands of bright gold.

But it was the last item that gave them real terror. It was just a piece of blue cambric-but it was stiff with dried blood. The blood had smeared the paper as well, so it had been fresh when the package was wrapped. And there was a small, ragged hole-a bullet?

"My God," Jarrod said. Until now he'd been focussed on natural accidents. But this was far worse. "This was planned, Mother. We're dealing with professionals."

"But why do they only mention her?" Victoria asked, her heart cold. "You don't suppose-that Heath is-

"No, of course not. They only planned to take Audra. Even Audra probably didn't plan on having Heath with her today. It must have been an impulse for him to go with her. Nick certainly didn't know."

"At least she's not alone," Victoria murmured. At least she hoped Audra wasn't alone. But that bit of shirt... "Jarrod, you go into town and get the sheriff. And-and there must be someone else who can help us. In San Francisco, maybe. A tracker. Or a Pinkerton's."

"A hundred thousand dollars," Jarrod said. "Where on earth will we get that kind of money? And in one day?"

"I don't know," Victoria said numbly. "All I know is that we have to do it, or die trying. Go on. I'll go after Nick. I want him here. The rest of the boys can go on looking."

"Hadn't you better stay here?"

"They won't contact us again tonight. And Silas is here. No, I want Nick here. And you hurry back too."

Jarrod paused long enough to give his mother's hand a hard squeeze. "They're all right, Mother. Those things were just meant to scare us. Like you said, at least they're not alone."

"If it was meant to scare me, it has," she admitted. "Let's go. We haven't any time to waste."

Audra dozed a little, fitfully, against her will. She jerked awake. Heath was still sleeping, but he had grown hot and sweaty, restless with fever. The canteen was empty. She climbed halfway up the stairs and knocked on the trap door.

It was a long time before the door opened. To her relief it was Mateo. "My brother's worse," she said. "Please, could I have some water? It might break his fever."

Mateo closed the door and locked it, but a few minutes later the door opened again, and she was handed an old bowl half-filled with tepid water. She thanked him. So long as Mateo was in charge, she thought, they had a chance. But Pietro...She turned her mind away from Pietro and concentrated on Heath.

The bandages were still in place. The white linen was now rusty, but, as far as she could see, he wasn't bleeding any more. Good; there was one thing she didn't have to worry about. He was in that strange state halfway between sleep and wakefulness, and she wasn't sure if he could hear her or not. She wished the water were cooler, but tepid was better than nothing. She bathed his chest and arms, hoping the water would help break the fever. She bathed his face, too, and kept the wet rag on his forehead.

After a time, to her surprise, the cool water seemed to bring him around. With some difficulty he raised himself back to a sitting position against the wall. In his side was a constant ache, but it was dull enough to ignore. "Is it morning yet?" he asked.

She fumbled for the watch in his vest pocket. "It's three o'clock."

Three o'clock. They had been missing for hours and hours; how long since anyone had known they were missing? Figure supper time; they'd probably been looking for six, seven hours. Knotsville was a good four-hour ride-if you knew enough to go straight there.

His tired mind tried to weigh the odds. It didn't seem especially likely that anyone would find them very soon. It didn't seem especially likely that they could escape from this cellar-especially given his condition. Though the ache wasn't bad, his head was light and his legs were heavy. He wouldn't be moving fast anytime soon. And it didn't seem especially likely that Mateo's ransom plan would go off all that well, either. It was far too much money even for the Barkleys to raise in one day. And while Mateo might mean to let them go-Pietro didn't. Or at least he didn't mean to let them go unharmed.

Heath went around this track several times, finding no good answer. Audra saw his frown, a fresh line of sweat beaded on his upper lip, and rinsed his face again. The cool water again helped bring him up. If he couldn't get out, perhaps Audra could. And even if she couldn't get away soon enough to save him-well, it might be enough to save her. That was his first duty, anyway. Resolution made him feel stronger. "Audra, member about the air? I think there must be a vent, or a door, somewhere down here. May be they had a stove, or a chimney, or something. If you poke along the mud here maybe we'll find it."

Audra wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but she sank her fingers into the mud along the wall. There was something solid behind the mud, and it felt like wood rather than stone or clay. "You're right," she said. It's not just mud."

She scraped away some mud near the top of the wall. Yes, there were clearly boards. And there was one crack that looked wider than the others.

Excited, she felt the wall on either side of the crack. Only a few feet from the bottom her hand brushed against something solid, metal-a hinge. "Heath," she said excitedly, "there's a little door down here!"

"Sh," he cautioned, pointing upstairs. "Don't want them to hear. See if you can dig it out real quiet."

There were cracks in the mud lining the walls; there was the source of the draft. She clawed away until a hinged door, nearly two feet square, appeared.

From above came the ominous scraping that presaged the opening of the trap door. Heath scurried sideways to block the little door from sight. Audra hurried plunged her hands into the bowl, wiping away the cacked mud.

It was Pietro.

By morning a number of people had arrived at the ranch. A Pinkerton had come down with bloodhounds and a professional tracker. Several friends of Jarrod's with banking ties had also responded to the late-night summons. The sheriff and his deputy, along with the sheriff from the next county east, were also there.

The Pinkerton, a man named Bates, was stumped. He examined the ransom note carefully. "Professionals," he agreed. "But this is most unusual. Even on the East coast. I'd say they're foreigners-probably Italians."

"Italians?" Jarrod asked doubtfully.

"Yes, the snatch business-kidnap for ransom-has an old history among Italian criminals. This was well-planned, with a lure prepared ahead of time. This isn't their first job." To Victoria he said, "Ma'am, that should make you feel much better. If these are professionals, believe me, they have no interest in shedding blood. They just want to take the money and run."

"But the bloody shirt," Victoria protested.

"For all you know it's chicken blood, and they dictated the note your daughter wrote. They just want to scare you into acting. Right now I wouldn't be too worried."

Jarrod was puzzled. "But won't they be worried about being identified?"

"Probably not. They'll figure they all look the same to Anglos. And around here they could probably pass as Mexicans, Gypsies-any number of things."

"So what do we do?"

"I recommend we proceed on two tracks. One, prepare to deliver the ransom as instructed. Two, continue to search-discretely-for their hideout. There's no else in not pursuing both options. Two attempts are more likely to succeed than one."

Jarrod pointed to a map. "They were seen heading east along this route sometime yesterday morning-they seemed fine at the time. Our source for that was coming from this ranch here. He didn't see anyone else suspicious on the road."

"What's out that way?"

"Not much. Well east of there-at least three hours from where Heath and Audra were last seen-is a town that's been abandoned for at least a dozen years. And there's a dam right there. Of course there's the occasional ranch out that way-mostly real big spreads. Not likely they'd see two riders passing by."

"But they might notice someone hanging around for a day or two. Sheriff, send a few men out that way to ask around. But discretely. We don't know what roads are being watched, or how big a gang we're dealing with. The one thing that might spook them is finding out we're on their trail. Jonas." Jonas was the dog handler. "Mrs. Barkley, if you could get a piece of clothing worn by either your son or daughter. We'll try tracking them from where they were last seen.

"Now, as to the ransom," Bates continued. "I know this is a delicate subject, but can it be raised?"

Jarrod shrugged. "With time, yes. But today? I doubt it. Even half that much would be difficult."

One of Jarrod's banking friends, Sam Wilkes, interrupted. "Gentlemen, I have a very unusual suggestion. I realize the question of fifty thousand dollars in cash is questionable at best. But what about that much-in counterfeit?"

"Counterfeit?" Jarrod asked.

"Exactly. Your friend Skyler-his plates are still in the vault in San Francisco, as is most of his counterfeit. We could run a few sheets this morning and make sure they're recognizably counterfeit. But they could be packed in with good bills on top and bottom. The criminals probably won't notice until it's much too late. And if they don't notice-well, it will make it that much easier to catch them if they do get away this time."

Bates frowned. "Is what you're suggesting even legal?"

Wilkes shrugged. "I honestly don't know, and I'd have to telegraph the head office in Washington for permission. But so long as we mark the counterfeit bills, and then disseminate the truth about them widely, I think it would be quite safe."

"I don't like it," Nick said. "What if these louts do find out that there's counterfeit in there? That's my brother and sister you're gambling with!"

Jarrod shook his head. "I agree it's a gamble, Nick, but I think it's the only chance we've got. There's no other way to gather up that much cash before the close of business today. Even if we mortgaged everything we own, it still wouldn't raise that much ready money. But as I recall, there was at least $20,000 worth of counterfeit from Brent. That's quite a start."

Bates gave up. "I'll leave that to you folks, then. I agree it's risky. But so long as the top layer or so are true bills, I think we'll be safe enough. Also, these fellows are foreigners-they may not be that familiar with American currency, especially the higher amounts."

Jarrod looked to Victoria. He didn't want to undertake anything so risky without her approval. "Do you agree?"

"I agree it's our only choice, given the time involved. We act as if we have all day. But they may ask for the money at any time. We have to do the best we can as fast as we can."

Wilkes said, "I'm off to the telegraph office. If it's doable, we should have that shipment on the noon train-it would be here by four p.m. I'm afraid that's the best we can do."

"It'll have to do," Jarrod said grimly.

Pietro wasn't carrying a gun, but what scared Audra was that he was no longer wearing any covering over his face; he wasn't concerned about letting them see his face. To Audra that meant he didn't mean to let them leave this basement alive.

Heath felt the same way. With a tremendous effort he was able to push himself up to his feet. The two men regarded each other without pretense. There was naked dislike in both faces.

"You need not stand on my account, Mr. Barkley." Pietro drawled the name out with contempt. "It is not you I come to see, but the lovely lady. Do not concern yourself."

Heath took a step forward. He grabbed Audra's wrist and pulled her behind him. "She is my concern," he said quietly. "And if you're planning on touching her you'll have to kill me first."

"A pleasure," Pietro said lightly.

"Heath, no," Audra groaned. She tried to hold him back, but he was surprisingly strong. His first blow connect with Pietro, but without enough force to bring the other man down. It left him unsteady on his feet. Pietro shook off the blow and moved in. Heath couldn't ward him off, and Pietro landed several heavy blows to Heath's stomach. He tried to support himself by grabbing onto Pietro's arms, but he didn't have any strength left in his arms. He dropped heavily to his knees, then to the ground.

Audra was screaming. Heath was down, but Pietro seemed more interested in finishing him off than going after Audra. There was a grotesque light of pleasure in his face as he began kicking Heath, carefully aimed and delivered blows.

He would kill Heath, right there, in front of her. Audra flew at him, nails out, arms flailing. She raked her nails across Pietro's face; he pushed her away as if she were no more than a fly. She was about to come at him again when a shot rang out.

The noise jolted Pietro from his trance. He whirled and reached for a gun that was not in his holster. Instead he faced Mateo unarmed.

"Enough," Mateo spat. "You are a careless pig, Pietro. All my planning may go for naught because you are a careless pig. I would kill you here if I didn't need your help. But I warn you. Disobey me again and I will kill you."

"Why do you stop me?" Pietro snarled. "We have made our show. The family will deliver the money. We cannot fail."

"We can fail. If we get caught, Pietro, and we have killed these people, we will hang. Do you not know they would hang you for outraging this woman, much less killing her? I have no desire to hang. Now come back upstairs and remember my words. One more problem and I will kill you, help or no help."

"The great signore Mateo," Pietro grumbled. "With his honor and his plans."

"Enough," Mateo said. The iciness in his tone chilled even Audra.

Pietro went up the stairs with poor grace. To Audra, Mateo said, "I apologize for my comrade's boorishness, signorina."

"Oh, please," Audra said. "Please, let us go. My mother will give you the money. But my brother-I have to get him out of here, I have to get him to a doctor. That man wants to kill him."

Mateo shook his head. "I will not allow that," he said simply, and went up the stairs. Soon she heard the heavy object being moved over the trap door.

He won't allow it, she though contemptuously. But he hasn't had much luck stopping Pietro so far. "Heath," she said softly. For a terrible moment she thought he was dead; then she heard his shallow, ragged breath. At least he was still alive. If Pietro came down again he'd kill Heath for sure. She couldn't let that happen. Surely whatever Pietro wanted from her couldn't be as bad as dying. "I can't let him kill you," she whispered.

It was as if he could read her thoughts. Groaning, he stirred, tried to rise. Gingerly she helped get him back into a sitting position against the wall. This time he didn't have the energy to disguise his pain from her. But he shooed her away when she tried to look at the bandage. Catching his breath finally he said: "Try'n open that latch, Audra."

It took a good deal of pulling and straining; the door had been shut, the hinges rusting, for at least a decade. But it finally gave way.

Audra strained her eyes into the darkness. Then she saw a flicker. "Heath, it is a vent. I can see a little daylight!"

It took their combined strength to get him over to where he could inspect the vent. There was a little daylight at the top. It ran up hill gradually, covering the ten feet in twenty feet or more. "See if you can climb up to that vent, and see if it lifts off. But don't go above ground. Come back first."

It took some wiggling. The tunnel was narrower at the top. But at last she reached a rusty screen, heavily overgrown with weeds; no wonder so little light came through. With a little pushing the screen came up. She figured she could fit through.

When she was back down she said, "It lifts right up. But it's going to be a tight fit for you, Heath."

He shook his head. "I ain't goin, Audra. Just needs to be big enough for you."

Audra shook her head firmly. "I'm not going without you, Heath."

"You gotta, honey. I can't go. Even if I could fit through I'd just slow you down too much. You have to go alone. If you want to go at all."

She couldn't decide. All she knew for sure was that she didn't want to leave him here. "He'll kill you," she said.

"Listen, Audra. If you run they might catch you, and that might be worse than stayin. But they may not catch you. If you get away you can bring back help." He grabbed her arm, made her look at him. "You're the only chance we got, Sis. I can't go. And I don't think you should stay."

His eyes were bright with intensity. "If he comes back, Audra, I can't-I can't be sure I can take care of you. I can't take of you. And I can't face that. Now go on."

"He'll kill you," she said again.

"Not if he just sticks to usin his boots." He smiled crookedly. He gave his watch, which had a compass set in the back. "You get outside, you start running. You run straight north and you don't stop for nothin, Audra. Don't look back even once. You just keep runnin. Dam's only a few miles north of here. You'll find that or a road or a farm or somebody. But you don't stop until then. You hear?"

"I hear," she said. There would be no more arguing about going or staying. She hugged him as tightly as she dared, thinking how much it might hurt. She kissed his raspy cheek; he kissed her once, very gently, on the forehead. She put the watch in her pocket, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders. In those few movements she looked so much like her mother it was uncanny, and it gave him heart. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she said with more certainty than she felt, and she climbed up the vent.

He watched long enough to see her scramble out the top. Carefully he closed the vent and leaned back against it. A few minutes passed with no alarm or noise from upstairs. He counted to sixty three, four, five times. At that point he relaxed a little. Five minutes was a powerful headstart. He figured it was four miles to the dam. How long did it take to run four miles? Half an hour? Could Audra run that far without stopping? Hell, could he? Now, if he were on Charger, he'd eat up those four miles in no time at all. In his mind, then, he was on Charger, tearing through the brush, moving as one with the big horse. Yes, they'd be there in no time.

She ran. She ran, and ran, and ran until her heart was about to burst. She ran straight from the house heading for the sheltering woods. She glanced quickly at her compass to make sure she was heading north, and she plunged into the woods. Twigs snapped, branches swung round to bite her arms, her legs, her face. She stumbled over exposed roots; she got up and ran again. She felt no pain, only the panicky need to keep moving. If she stopped they would catch her. If she stopped he would die. It was a powerful incentive.

At last she had to stop and draw breath. To her amazement she felt tears, as well as blood, on her face; she had been too panicked to notice her own tears. She drew great gulpy breaths, a stitch burning in her side. She had no idea how far she'd run; she only knew, from her compass, that she was still heading north. She began to run again, but now it was more of a lope rather than the flat-out speed that had carried her away from Knotsville. She felt strong; she felt powerful; she had purpose. She could run like this forever.

At daylight Nick went out with Bates, the tracker, and a small party. Jarrod stayed in town to coordinate the ransom. Victoria was alone at the ranch, waiting.

Throughout the day the trail led east. Nick was impatient. He felt certain they were hidden at Knotsville or in the woods by the dam; but the dogs didn't move as fast as the horses could, and the tracker convinced him to stay with the group. Other men went ahead, fanning out among the ranches along the way, spreading the word. One came back with the information that a wagon had been parked on the Nevada road yesterday morning; later it was seen heading east. "Knotsville," Nick said triumphantly.

"Or the dam. Or the woods. Or other point," Bates pointed out. "The trail hasn't given out yet. Stay with us."

The dam near Knotsville was a large earthen dam. It required constant maintenance and inspection; there were three men on duty there at all times, both to watch the dam and to give out a warning if any danger threatened. One of the sheriff's small parties reached there in the afternoon. The dam crew had seen nothing; but they were told to be on the lookout. The whole alarm amused the men. They were a ways off the beaten track; most of their time was taken up by the dam. They didn't get much excitement in the dry season. The sheriff's party struck off farther north.

"Wouldn't it be funny if we got them folks?" one of the crew said.

The engineer grunted. "We're more likely to fish up Bluebeard in the overflow."

North, north, north. How long had she been running? Foolish of her not to have looked at the watch when she'd left. At least she'd have some idea then. Foolishly she didn't check the watch then, either. She kept loping north.

And there, suddenly, it was. Behind the massive earthen dam a long, dark lake was backed up. It was startling to come through the heavy trees and suddenly see this great mass of water. It took a moment for understanding to sink it. The dam. She'd made it.

The dam crew were as surprised as she'd been. The engineer sputtered, "You- you must be that missing girl."

"I'm Audra Barkley, and I need help. My brother's back in Knotsville. I need a gun."

"Oh, now, little lady," the engineer said. "I reckon we can-

"I need a rifle," she said firmly. "Follow me."

Well, it wasn't easy to refuse anyone who asked that firmly. The engineer opened his gun cabinet, pulled out four rifles, and they set out for Knotsville. No one ever thought of strategy or care. The engineer drove as fast as he dared; if he'd let that girl drive, who knows what might have happened. She'd brushed aside his offer of medical care or bandages. "My brother is back there," she'd snapped. "It can wait."

As they drew near into the ruined town, there were two quick shots. Audra jumped from the wagon and ran toward the house she'd been held in. The flustered crew scrambled along behind her.

She pushed open the door to see Pietro, gun in hand, opening the trap door. Mateo lay in a pool of blood nearby. Instinctively she raised the rifle and fired.

It had a tremendous kickback, far more powerful than any she'd handled. The force of it knocked her backward and set her ears to ringing. When her head cleared she saw Pietro sprawled on the floor before her. Later that vision would give her hot pleasure in recollection, but she had no time to gloat now. She went straight down the stairs into the basement.

He opened his eyes briefly. "You do run fast, sis," he said mildly.

The tracker and the Pinkerton were embarrassed to have been beat out by a crew of workmen. The workmen were embarrassed to have been beat out by a mere girl. Everyone congratulated everyone else on a job well done. Sam Wilkes was left with several sheets of unusable counterfeit.

Audra shook her head at any questions. "It's all my fault," is all she would say. Her energy now sapped, she cried most of the way home. Part of it was still fear, worrying about whether Heath would be all right or not. Part of it was pain; somewhere along the way she'd dislocated her shoulder, and there were plenty of other bumps, bruises, and cuts that demanded attention.

Doc Scanlon set her shoulder and put her in a sling. He tut-tutted over Heath but decided he'd live. "If you Barkleys would lead more settled lives," he grumbled, "it'd cut down on my practice considerable."

The evening after all the excitement, the family was gathered in Heath's room. "I for one," Nick said, "would like to know what the hell you two were doing all the way out there."

Audra and Heath exchanged glances. Audra decided to fess up; as she was taking a deep breath, Heath cut in. "Audra got a note about someone wantin to make an anonymous donation to the orphanage. She asked me to go out with her."

"An anonymous donation?" Jarrod mused. "Honey, you shouldn't be so gullible."

Guiltily, Audra said, "I won't, after this."

Shaking her head, Victoria hugged Audra. "You must be more careful, dear."

"And next time you should take me instead," Nick said. "I'm not likely to fall for such a story."

"I think Heath's had enough company-and you need some rest, too, Audra," Victoria said.

"I'll be along in a minute, Mother."

After the rest of the family were gone, Audra said, "You didn't need to cover me like that. I deserved the lecture."

"Cover you? I was coverin me. Can you imagine how silly I'd look? Not just letting you go after some strange fortune teller, but going right along with you? I'd never hear the end of it."

At the door she said, "I suppose saying `thank you' would be inadequate."

"I suppose it wasn't supposed to be necessary tween family."

She smiled. "Well, you are still my favorite brother."