"I hope they find him!" Nelda was indignant.
"What does he look like?" WiU asked.
The marshal pursed his lips and squinted. "He's young and stocky and tall—close to six feet. Black hair, with long moustaches. No beard. Dressed like just about anybody, 'cept for a fringed leather jacket sort of like those the mountain men wear."
"What about the other two men?" Megan asked.
*They arrested the two who were with Napes, but Napes got away. My job right now is to get some volunteer help, fan out, and take a look for any signs he may be in these parts. And that's why Fm here."
"We'll go with you," Ben said. "I'll get my rifle."
As Ben and Will strode toward the house, Megan could see the worry in Ermna's and Nelda's eyes. She squeezed shut her own eyes in fear, only to see the gypsy, laughing and pointing at her. Quickly she opened them again to drive off the taunting face, but she couldn't escape the thought that something awful was about to happen, and somehow it was all her fault.
Megan wanted to cling to Ben's arm and beg, "Please don't go! Nothing bad can happen to you, because Emma needs you." But she knew no one else would understand why she was so aft-aid, so she had no choice but to follow Enuna's lead and, without a protest, watch the men ride away.
"It won't take long," were the marshal's last words to
the women. "Fll have your husbands back here before nightfaU."
Megan watched the dust kicked up by the horses' hooves swirl and shiver and settle. She came to with a start, though, when Emma tucked a finger under her chin and smiled at her. "Don't look so worried, Megan. That horrible Cully Napes is probably far away firom here by now. Ben and Will will be all right."
"I—I just wish they didn't have to go with the marshal."
"Where people live far fi:*om each other, with wide spaces in between, they need each other all the more. No one who refused to give help when it was asked would be able to exist on the prairie."
Nelda wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and shivered. "It's so cold! Why are we standing out here, when we could be warm in the house?"
Her children raced ahead to see who could be first inside, but Megan stepped back. "No one's gathered the eggs yet," she said, "and since I already have my coat on, ru do it."
Emma smiled her thanks and hurried after Nelda, while Megan went to the coop. The hens, sleepy and cold, had burrowed into their nests, and there were eggs, warm against Megan's fingers as she scooped them into her basket.
She went toward the bam, intending to make sure that Ben and Mr. Parson hadn't left any unfinished chores for her to do, but she stopped suddenly as a movement just inside the small door caught her attention. She looked carefully, straining to see, but there was only quiet shadow. It wasn't unusual for the door to be left open during the day, so there was nothing suspicious in that.
Could one of the children be hiding there? No. The children were inside the house. She could hear them
laughing and shrieking as their mother tried to raise her voice over theirs, shouting to them to calm down.
An animal? With a gasp she remembered the wolves, seeing in her mind their terrifying, gleaming eyes. But a wolf would have sprung out at her by this time. They*d heard no wolves for weeks. It couldn't have been a wolf.
Megan began to doubt she had seen anything at all. It had probably been a trick of the light, and her imagination had taken over. But instead of going into the bam, she went back to the house.
As she placed the basket of eggs on the table, she glanced up at the gun rack. Ben had taken his favorite rifle, but the Henry rifle was still in place. Quietly, so she wouldn't unnecessarily alarm anyone, Megan took the rifle from the rack, checked to make sure it was loaded, and placed it near the door behind the coatrack, where it was hidden by the layers of coats. She'd have to keep a special watch to make sure the children didn't discover it, but she felt safer with it hidden and close at hand.
Just then Teddie whizzed past her. He flung open the door and raced outside, Thea on his heels. They had dashed down the step and across the yard before Megan could stop them.
"You're it! You're it!" Thea screamed so loudly that neither of them could hear Megan shout, "Come back!"
"Megan." At the fireplace Enuna straightened, one hand pressed to the small of her back. "Will you watch the children? They're so excited, there's no telling what—"
But Teddie and Thea were racing back, screaming, *There's a man hiding in the bam!"
Megan ran to the children, grabbed their hands, and pulled them toward the house, but their short legs were no match for the man^s long strides. By the time Megan reached the door, he was beside her, roughly shoving all of them into the room.
"Shut the door!" he yelled at Megan, brandishing a large handgun.
Nelda shrieked and started toward her children. Emma raised a stirring paddle as though she could protect them with it. Her face pale with fear, she shouted at the man, "Leave those children alone!"
Teddie and Thea ran to their mother and clung to her, and she stooped to wrap her arms around them.
Megan was frozen where she stood, too frightened to move, but when the man yelled, "I told you to shut that door!" she quickly obeyed.
This had to be Cully Napes. He fit the marshal's description. But the marshal had left something out. Napes was so dirty that he smelled like a privy. Megan wrinkled her nose in disgust.
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He waved his gun again as he barked, "All of you—get over to that side of the room. Now!" He grabbed Megan by the shoulder and gave her a shove that almost knocked her off her feet.
Emma's voice was firm. "Well do as you say. There's no need for you to behave like that."
"Behave like that?" he mocked. "You sound like a schoolmarm." He pulled Ben's chair up to the fireplace and dropped into it, stretching out his legs, his gun laid across his lap. His glance swept the room, and he smiled when he saw the empty gun rack. "I saw your menfolk ride off with the marshal," he said. "Any others around this place? Any hired hands?"
"No," Enuna said. Pink blotches stood out on her pale cheeks, but she spoke quietly and calmly, trying to hide her fear.
"Fix me something to eat," Napes said.
At that moment Patches scrambled to the top of the box, teetered a moment, and flopped to the floor. He picked himself up and tottered toward Napes.
"Get that dog away from me!" Napes snarled.
As though she were moving in slow motion, Megan stepped forward as Napes kicked Patches aside with the toe of his boot.
Patches let out a yelp, and both Megan and Teddie rushed toward him. Teddie scooped up Patches and tearfully yelled in Napes's face, "YouVe a bad man!"
Before Megan could pull Teddie away, Napes reached out and cuffed the little boy, who staggered back, shrieking in terror, and ran to his mother. Napes raised his hand again, this time aiming at Megan, but Emma rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
"Don't you dare hit the children!" she screamed at him.
Napes jumped to his feet, grabbed Enuna's shoulder, and roughly shoved her across the room. Megan gasped in horror as Emma hit the wall and fell heavily to the floor.
Above the screaming of the children Megan shouted at Napes, "You dirty pig! You hurt her!"
"I told you all to stay out of my way!" Napes snapped. "Now you know I mean what I said. All of you—get down to the other end of the room!"
Nelda shepherded her children to a spot behind the kitchen table and started toward Emma.
"Stay where you are!" Napes demanded.
"She's—she's in the family way," Megan stammered, so terrified of what Napes might do next that the back of her neck was cold with sweat. "She needs help."
"What's that to me?" He pointed the gun directly at Megan. "You heard what I said. Get over there."
Megan could see into the barrel of the gun, and her knees wobbled with fright, but she took a long breath, trying to steady herself, and then another step toward Enmia.
"You're asking for trouble," he growled.
Megan glanced at Emma, then back to Napes. "I know," she said, desperation giving her courage. "I am trouble." She turned her back on Napes and went to kneel beside Enuna. Nelda came and crouched by her side.
"Don't worry, Megan," Emma murmured. "No bones broken." Emma tried to smile, but Megan could see beads of sweat pop out on Emma's forehead and knew she must be in great pain. With both of them supporting Enuna, they managed to help her into a chair.
Ns^es tilted his chair back and grinned at them. "A lot of good that chair's gonna do you," he said to Emma.
t
"Hop up. Now. I want to see you two women get busy. Fix me something to eat."
The twist of his mouth so vividly reminded Megan of the gypsy's evil smile that she gasped. But she remembered what Emma had told her. "1 believe in you," Emma had said. And Megan knew this was her chance to find out which was stronger—the curse of bad luck or her own good sense.
She stepped forward. "No," she said. "/*m the cook. Vl take care of you, Mr. Napes. Mrs. Parson can care for the others."
One of his bushy eyebrows lifted. "Oh, ho! You know my name."
"Of course," she said. She added some chips to the fire in the stove and sl2^)ped on the lid. In the large iron skillet she laid two thick slices of ham, and as the edges began to frizzle she cut some slices of commeal mush and fi^ied them with the ham until they were crusty on the outside and hot on the inside. She sbd the slices of mush and ham onto a plate, added a fork, and carried the plate and a small pitcher of cane syrup to Na4>es.
He laid the gun on his lap as he took them from her. He poured on syrup until his plate was swimnung in it and handed back the empty pitcher.
"Bring me something to drink," he growled.
"What do you want?" Megan asked. "Buttennilk or water?"
"There must be somethin' better'n that around here."
^That's all we have. Take it or leave it"
He peered up at her with a scowl. "You know my name," he said. "Didn't you get the rest of it? Fm a killer."
Was he trying to frighten her—or just impress her? *That's what I heard," she answered.
"Nothings gonna stop me from killin' again when it suits me." Napes held the plate close to his face and shoveled the ham and fried mush into his mouth as fast as he could, grunting and belching and smacking his lips. While he ate, he kept his gaze on the people in the room.
/ cdUed him a pig. He's worse than a pig, Megan thought. She'd seen eyes like his before. Some of the bullies in their New York neighborhood had the same mean, narrowed eyes, which darted here and there as though looking for someone else to attack. Cully Napes was a bully.
Napes turned to hand Megan the empty plate, and their eyes met. "You're not afraid of me?" he asked, and a warning buzzed in Megan's mind. A bully who could twist a girl's arm until she screamed with pain, or a bully with a gun—^there was one thing they had in conmion. Megan knew what that was and how to protect herself from it.
"Yes," she said in a small voice. "I'm afraid of you."
He smiled, his pride intact, and she could see him relax just a little.
"You're a dangerous man," she continued, "and probably very smart, too."
"That's right," he said. "I was smart enough to get away from that stupid marshal. They'll be hunting for me clear down Texas way, and here 1 am, with a full belly, just bidin' my time until I figure it's safe to start out again."
Megan could see Nelda wiping Emma's face with a damp cloth. She had to keep Napes's attention away from them and, at the same time, give herself a chance to think. The best thing to do right now, she decided, was to keep him talking.
'Tell me how you got away," she asked, and he obliged,
bragging in detail about his accomplishments. It was all Megan could do to nod approvingly as he described robberies, beatings, and destruction that made her sick to think about.
The puppies, wanting to be free from their box, began to yip, and the children grew restless, Thea whimpering for her mother. As Napes scowled in their direction, Megan picked up the nearest book, Aesop's Fables. Til give this to the children to look at," she said. Quickly she brought it to them, whispering, 'Tlease, please be quiet!"
With wide eyes they stared at her, and Teddie reached for the book.
"Will you read to us about the fox?" he asked.
"In a little while," Megan said. She walked back to Napes, excited by the idea that had come to her.
The story Teddie wanted was her own favorite, about the conceited crow and the flattering fox.
Well, Mr. Aesop, Megan thought, / know what to do with that story of yours. At least, Fm going to try. If Fm the fox, let's see if Mr. Napes will oblige by being the crow.
Megan sat on the floor, just out of reach of Cully Napes's long legs and thick boots. "You must be very brave," she told him.
"Of course I am," he snarled.
"Tell me some of the things youVe done."
"Why not," he said and preened just as the vain crow had done when the fox had tried to flatter her into dropping the piece of cheese he wanted.
He went on to brag about his exploits. Megan nodded and smiled, trying to look interested.
When he paused, she said, "I think you're almost as daring as the mountain men and the scouts in the West. IVe heard lots of stories about them."
"Don't believe everything you hear. A lot of it's made-up braggin'," he sns^ped, and his eyes became narrow slits.
Why, he'sjealoiis of them, Megan thought. ThaVs all to the good, "I don't think it's just bragging," she said. "Why, I've heard that those men can aim their guns at the smallest of targets and hit them every time. I don't believe that anyone could shoot as well as they do—not even you."
Napes's feet and the two front legs of the chair hit the floor with a bang. "You're wrong about that! With this Remington .44 I can hit anything—or anyone—I want!"
Megan shrugged. 'That's hard to believe."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
She was terrified that she'd gone too far. Gulping through the tightness in her throat, she stammered, "I'd never call you that, Mr. Napes, but it's only reasonable to want some proof." He opened his mouth to speak, but Megan rattled on. "If you were to stand on the front step, I bet you couldn't shoot well enough to hit the tips of the lower branches on the cottonwood tree near the road."
Megan scrambled to get out of the way as Napes leapt to his feet. "I'll show you I can!" He strode to the front door and threw it open.
Megan was right behind him, pointing to the tree. *That lower limb—can you hit it?"
Ns^es stood on the front step, readied his gun, raised it, and fired. The tip of the branch sns^ped off with a crack.
He chuckled and said, "I told you I was a good shot."
"How about that higher branch?" Megan asked.
He loaded the gun with ball, powder, and cap from the pouch at his belt, and again hit his mark.
"But how about over there? And there?" Megan kept an eye on the pouch.
Each time Napes tx>ok off the tip of the branch he was aiming at, until Anally Megan said, Fll admit, youVe very good, but I don't think you can hit the top of the tree. Look—it's moving in the breeze. Nobody could hit it.''
"Yeah? Just watch me." He held open the empty pouch and swore under his breath. "Fm out of ammunition," he said. "Stay right here. Vl get some from my saddlebags."
Megan waited until Napes had gone a few steps toward the bam. Then she snatched the Henry rifle from its place behind the coatrack and aimed it at him. "Stop," she said, "and turn around."
"What are you—" he barked, but his voice died away as he saw the gun.
"Don't you dare to move," she shouted. "You do what I tell you to do, or Til shoot you. I'm a good shot, too."
"Listen, little girl," he began in a wheedling tone, but Megan interrupted.
*Throw your gun over here," she said. *Throw it inside the house." As he hesitated
she added, "I've already counted to two, and I'm not going to count past three."
She stepped aside, and he slung his gun into the open doorway. She heard it slide and skitter across the wooden floor.
"Now," she said, "turn your back to me and be flat on your face on the ground."
"I can't do that! It's too cold," he whined.
"You won't be there long," she said. "Only till the marshal gets back. And remember, I'll keep this gun on you the whole time. If you move even once, I'll shoot you." Her heart was beating so fast and loud she could hear it. "Be quick, now! Lie down on the ground as I told you to!"
Slowly he got to his knees, then lay down flat. She shivered, hoping she'd be able to keep her hold on the
heavy gun, wondering what she would do if Napes challenged her. She knew she couldn't shoot him. She couldn't shoot anyone. She just hoped he wouldn't guess that.
"Megan." Mrs. Parson spoke softly near her right ear, but Megan didn't dare take her eyes off Napes. "I don't know what to do. I can't let you stay here alone, but Emma needs me. Megan, do you understand? Emma is in labor!"
Megan took a quick breath. "Go to Emma," she whispered. *Trust me. I'll keep this man from causing any more harm."
"I'll take Emma to the bedroom," Mrs. Parson said, "and tell the children they must stay in the living room and play with the puppies. Oh, dear! If only—"
Megan's hands trembled, and she took a firmer grip on the gun. "Will Emma be all right?" she asked. But Mrs. Parson had gone inside.
Megan's hands were shaking so that she had a hard time keeping the rifle steady. Emma had to come through this with no harm! The baby, too! No matter what!
Cully Napes began to whimper. "You can't let the marshal arrest me. This whole business—^that trouble in the tavern—it wasn't my fault."
"Stop it!" Megan shouted at Napes, her fears for Emma, for all of them, exploding in a burst of fury. "Of course it was your fault! And all the trouble you've caused here— that's your fault, too, and no one else's!"
Shocked, Megan gasped at what she had just said. For once she had blamed someone other than the gypsy or herself.
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