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his feet like a circus cat performing its paces. Pamela shrank away. Her heart was beating wildly. Who was this man?
    “I’m talking about this,” Pamela finally offered in a weak voice. She waved her arm across the sky. “My rescue.”
    “I didn’t plan to rescue you. I don’t know who this Bradley is, and I sure don’t know who you are.” He came to stand no more than a foot or so away from her before he crouched down. “Who are you?”
    Pamela began to tremble so hard that it was instantly noticeable to the man. He grumbled beneath his breath, walked to where his bedroll was, and brought back a blanket. Without any concern for the woman at his feet, he unrolled the blanket with a snap that ended in a cloud of dust.
    “Here,” he said and threw it down.
    Pamela coughed and sputtered in the dust cloud. Anger quickly replaced her fear, and Pamela got to her feet, casting the blanket to one side.
    “How dare you!” she exclaimed and rushed at the surprised man. She pounded her fists against his chest while the stranger stood staring down at her in shocked wonder. Finally having had enough, he reached out in a flash and halted her assault.
    “Who are you?” he asked in a whisper.
    “I’m Pamela Charbonneau,” her blue eyes flashed their anger, reminding the man of summer lightning.
    A smile broke across his face for only a moment, then faded to a solemn line. “Why were you at the Dawson house?”
    “I’m staying there with friends,” she said and struggled to pull loose from his grip. “Or I should say, was staying there. Now that I’ve answered your questions, how about answering mine?”
    The man shrugged and released her. “Jim,” he said casually. “The name’s Jim Williams.”
    “Should that mean anything to me?” Pamela asked, stepping backwards several steps. She felt better putting the distance between them.
    “Not unless Zandy told you about me,” he replied.
    “Zandy? Why would she know a ruthless outlaw like you?”
    Jim laughed. “Outlaw, eh? I guess you would think that.”
    Pamela didn’t care that the anger was fading from his face. “I demand that you tell me what’s going on. I want to know now!” she screeched and stomped her foot.
    Jim stared in wonder. His silence only served to irritate her.
    “I mean it!” Pamela’s voice was rising to a shout. “I want to know why you took me. I want to know when you are going to release me. I want to know why—”
    Pamela stopped as Jim turned to walk away. “Where are you going?”
    Jim kept walking and Pamela ran after him, grabbing his arm. “You don’t mean to leave me here alone, do you?”
    Jim stopped and stared down at her. “I have to think,” he declared. “And, I can’t do that with you caterwauling. Sit by the fire and you’ll be fine. I’ll be back when my head is clear.”
    With that, he pulled his arm loose and disappeared into the darkness. Pamela whirled on her heel and stalked back to the fire. She was worried, frightened, and just plain mad. The arrogance of the man left her shaking with rage. The memory of his piercing brown eyes left her trembling for other reasons.
    Grabbing the blanket he’d thrown down, Pamela pulled it around her and sat down. The trees rustled a haunting melody. Night sounds she’d not heard before became audible in her solitude. Pamela had never really been alone before. All of her life, there had been someone to watch over her or to do for her. Now there was no one, not even the angry man who’d taken her.
    Tears came to Pamela’s eyes as the distant scream of a mountain lion rang out. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged the blanket close, pulling it over her head.
    “God,” she prayed, “please help me.”

Five
    A ll his life, Jim Williams had only one desire. That was to get his own piece of the world and make something of himself. Now, at twenty-six, he was beginning to wonder if that day would ever come.
    Even though the night air bore an unmistakable