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do.”
    “The man has committed atrocities.”
    “In retribution for the atrocities that were committed against his people.”
    “He’ll get a fair trial.”
    “Before he’s hanged?”
    “The decision was made to make an example of him.”
    “As I said—a damned fool thing for the military to do.”
    Thurston’s lips tightened. “I’m in no position to criticize the way Washington is handling the situation with the Indians.”
    “But you want to put yourself in the same position asRed Shirt by walking into the enemy’s hands under a flag of truce.”
    “I don’t suppose what I’m proposing would sound so foolish if it were your daughter out there somewhere, waiting for you to rescue her.”
    “I’m sorry about that. You know I am.” Edwards frowned. “What’s Washington’s position on her disappearance?”
    “Washington has its own priorities.”
    Edwards remained silent.
    “All right.” Thurston paused, then continued, “I recognize your position. You can’t officially sanction my proposal, but you could draw a map of nearby villages for me so I could find my own way. You can advise me on the best way to approach the Indians.”
    “Major—”
    “Some help is all I ask.”
    “A map wouldn’t do any good. Your daughter’s not being held at any of the established villages—at least as far as I can ascertain. She’s probably being kept at one of the camps that has moved north for the summer.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning that it’s a big country. She could be anywhere. And even if you
did
find the right camp, there’s no guarantee the Cheyenne would let you know she’s there. You could be no more than a few yards from her without knowing.”
    “I’d know.”
    Edwards did not respond. “I want to go.”
    “It’s a mistake.”
    “I mean it.”
    “All right.” Edwards’s frown cut deep. “Give me a couple of days to see what I can do.”
    The girl was cold.
    Shadow Walker looked at her where she lay on a blanket in their temporary camp. He studied her with a furrowed brow. They had left the Cheyenne camp early that morning and had traveled through the long day afterward. Still suffering the aftereffects of her attempted escape, she had fallen into an extended semi-sleep, depending entirely on his support to remain upright as they rode.
    Concern further knitted Shadow Walker’s brow. He had made camp for the night and eaten, but the girl had shown no desire for food. Her injury had left her weak and her thoughts confused. She had begun to speak words without meaning. She had looked up at him with an unintelligible word of praise moments earlier, and she had smiled into his eyes—stirring an unexpected warmth inside him—but she had then rambled on and her smile had disappeared.
    Shadow Walker touched the girl’s cheek and felt the heat there. Scooping water from the pouch beside him, hebathed her face. He washed away the grime of her fall, exposing her smooth, pale skin to his touch. Halting, he wondered at the care of his own ministrations, then told himself he needed the girl at full strength for his intentions.
    The girl shivered as the night air chilled. She called a name and hugged her arms around her. He covered her with a blanket, but her shivering continued. Knowing only one sure way to halt her body’s quaking, Shadow Walker made an abrupt decision.
    Lying beside her, Shadow Walker drew the girl against him. She turned spontaneously to his warmth, burrowing against him to share his heat. Her body was delicate and warm to his touch as he slipped his arm around her and closed his eyes to sleep. His last thought as he held her close was of her smile—and that she was right. She was not a child.
    Miranda awakened slowly to the light of morning. Disoriented, she realized that she lay on blankets stretched out on the ground, with a small campfire burning nearby. She scanned the wilderness terrain surrounding her and saw in the distance sharp buttes outlined raggedly against