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put their heels to their horses to follow her. Long ago she had planned what she would do in such a case. She had to act decisively and catch them by surprise. She was an excellent rider and knew her horse well. She gigged him so he turned on his hindlegs and set down directly in front of the three riders, the shotgun lying along his neck. She said two words.
    “Back off!”
    The men pulled up.
    “Ain’t friendly, huh?” The heavyset man’s nose was big and veined, and his eyes were small and piggish. He was a wide man and the sleeves of his dirty shirt were rolled halfway to his elbows. His hat was too small for his big head, and Vanessa could smell his unwashed body from ten feet away.
    “No.”
    Henry had stopped the wagon about fifty yards ahead, and the Wisner wagon had stopped a good hundred yards back. Vanessa faced the men between the two wagons.
    “Got any tobaccy to sell?”
    “No.”
    The dark man had the blackest eyes Vanessa had ever seen. He turned his head to look at her with both of them, the way a snake would do. His clothes were clean, his boots good, and his gun was tied down. He sat quietly watching, but she knew he was the dangerous one. The other was a shifty-eyed kid whose brows grew together over his nose. He had a constant grin on his face.
    “Yo’re shore a purty little thin’.” The big man spit, then grinned at her with snuff-stained lips. “Ain’t she a purty little thin’, Tass? We ain’t seen nothin’ purtier since we seen that little filly dancin’ bare naked on the bar in Trail City.”
    The dark man took his time answering, and all the time his black eyes never blinked.
    “That whore don’t hold a candle to her.” His voice was soft and silky and rolled out through lips that barely moved. It was a voice Vanessa didn’t like. His hair, as black as his hat, was shiny and grew down in front of his ears, framing his narrow dark face. His features were fine, but his high cheekbones stamped him as a half-breed. The dark man’s horse began to move slowly forward, one step at a time.
    “Come any closer and I’ll blow you out of the saddle,” Vanessa said confidently and in a conversational tone
    The horse stopped and the dark man’s face broke into a smile that didn’t seem to affect his eyes; they stayed open and unblinking. “Ya got a man?”
    Vanessa ignored his softly spoken question.
    “Ya got a man?” he asked again. Silence. “Well, it makes no never mind if’n ya got a man or not. You ’n me are agoin’ to get mighty friendly afore long.”
    “I doubt that,” she retorted in a cool, lofty tone. “Now ride out.”
    “Do ya think to hold off all three of us with that shotgun?”
    “No. Just you. It’ll not matter to you what happens after the first shot. You’ll be splattered all over that horse.”
    The man threw back his head and laughed as if what she had said pleased him. “C’mon,” he said to the other two. “Leave
my
woman be . . . for now.”
    He lifted his hand in a salute, wheeled his horse and rode toward the river. The other two followed, the kid looking back over his shoulder and laughing.

Chapter Three
    Vanessa rode back to speak to Mr. Wisner when the wagons began to move again.
    “Ma’am, I hung back cause I didn’t want to let ’em get us bunched up.”
    “You did right, Mr. Wisner. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them. We’d better make camp together tonight.”
    “I was athinkin’ that, ma’am. If’n ya don’t mind me sayin’ so, we ort a pick us a spot in the open.”
    “I don’t mind at all. I appreciate your suggestions.”
    The girl on the seat beside the old man kept her face turned away. She was small but full grown. Her breasts were rounded and strained the bodice of the dress that was too small. Her hair was brown and curly and brushed straight back from her forehead without a part. It was tied at the nape of her neck with a string.
    “This here’s Mary Ben. Say howdy, Mary Ben,” Mr. Wisner