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through on the white cotton.
    â€œWe’ll set up watches,” she said in her decisive manner. “I’ll take—”
    They all tensed when the sounds of pounding hoovesreached them through the open window. Nick grabbed for the shotgun, which he’d gone back outside for as soon as they’d laid the old foreman down on the bed.
    â€œOh, my heavens, are they back to kill us, too?” Sarah cried, shrinking into the corner.
    But Milly strode over to the window and flicked aside the homemade muslin curtains. “It’s the posse from town. Maybe they’ll be in time to catch those thieving Comanches and get our cattle back.” From the slumped set of her shoulders, though, it didn’t look as if she believed it.
    A minute later, the men clomped inside, spurs clanking against the plank floor, bringing with them the smells of horses and leather and sweat. Milly went into the kitchen to meet them, and he heard her telling them about Josh’s injuries and how “the Englishman” had pulled the arrows out of the foreman.
    All nine of them were soon tramping back into the spare bedroom to see Josh for themselves—and to satisfy their curiosity about the foreign stranger, Nick assumed.
    Milly introduced each one to him. They were an assorted lot, some were tall, some short, some had weathered faces and the lean, wiry-legged build of men who spent much time in the saddle. Others were paler and slighter, like shopkeepers. A couple seemed about the same age as Nick; three were younger, boys really, and the rest had graying or thinning hair. All of them nodded cordially to Nick, and all appeared dressed to ride except for the oldest, whom he had seen climbing out of a two-wheeled covered buggy.
    â€œAnd last but not least is Doctor Harkey,” said Milly,indicating the older man now bending over Josh and peering under the bandages. Doctor Harkey straightened as his name was called, and reached out a hand to Nick.
    â€œYou did well, it appears,” he told Nick. “Doubt I could’ve done better myself, though of course only time will tell if old Josh will survive his injuries,” he added, looking back at the unconscious man. “Are you a doctor?”
    â€œNothing like that, sir, but I’m thankful to hear you don’t think I made things worse,” Nick said.
    â€œHe was a soldier in India,” Milly informed the doctor.
    â€œI hate t’ interrupt, but are we gonna stand around jawin’ or are we gonna ride after them Comanches?” asked a beefy, florid-faced middle-aged man. “While we’re talkin’, those murderin’ redskins ’re gallopin’ away with them cattle.” He punctuated his words with a wide sweeping gesture toward the outside.
    All the men of the posse straightened and started heading for the door.
    Nick stood. “I’d like to go along, if you gentlemen don’t mind. I can use their shotgun, and I have my pistols. That is, if you feel you’ll be all right here, Miss Matthews.”
    Milly nodded, obviously surprised by his announcement.
    Doctor Harkey stood up. “I’m staying here at least until the posse returns. Josh needs me more than they do.”
    The men of the posse looked dubiously at Nick. The beefy man found his voice first. “That’s right kindlyof you, stranger, but y’ ain’t exactly dressed fer it,” he said, eyeing Nick’s blood-stained black frock coat and trousers. “And we didn’t bring no extra horse.”
    â€œThat’s my bay standing out there next to the wagon, still saddled. And this suit is probably already ruined, so it makes no difference.”
    â€œWe can get him some of Josh’s clothes—they’re about the same size,” Milly said. “Bobby, run and fetch them.”
    The youth, who had been standing by the door, did as he was told, gangly arms flying, boot heels thudding on the floor.
    â€œAnd