She swallowed and tried to tell herself that she was panicking for nothing. But the house was silent, and she still sensed that Cole was gone. Not just off on the ranch somewhere — gone. She couldn't have explained how she knew. It was an emptiness. It festered inside her, and it held her in an awful anguish.

But this…

This was more urgent. "Delilah?"

No one answered her. Delilah was not in the kitchen, and neither was Samson. She didn't hear the baby crying, and she had no idea where Shannon was.

And the cavalry officer hadn't come to knock at her door.

She crept out the back door, careful to keep it from slamming behind her. Walking as quickly and silently as she could, she came around the corner of the house. The man was gone, and the horse was gone.

Her heart was beating much too quickly. She dropped low and raced over the dry sand to the barn. She followed the line of the buildings, coming closer and closer to the corner.

She paused and inhaled sharply. Her blood raced, and she tried desperately to still her erratic breathing.

She rounded the corner and she came face-to-face with an Enfield rifle.

Behind it stood the man in the Confederate cavalry officer's uniform. It was worn and faded, the gold epaulets frayed.

"Drop it!" he warned her. His eyes were teal, a beautiful color. They were also sharp as razors.

She realized that she was aiming the Colt at him.

"You drop it!" she barked.

He smiled. She realized that he was young and very, very good-looking. And familiar in some way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"This Enfield can blow a hole right through you."

"It's not a totally dependable weapon."

"At this range? Impossible to miss."

"A Colt will scalp you faster than an Indian would dare dream."

He was tall, masculine and elegant in the worn uniform. He didn't intend to harm her, she was certain. But she didn't lower the barrel of the gun. She had learned not to take any chances.

"Kristin McCahy?"

"Yes."

He laughed and lowered the rifle. "Why in God's name were you sneaking up on me like that?"

She jammed the Colt into her holster, instinct assuring her that she was in no danger. She shook her head ruefully.

"I'm sorry. This is my property. And you are a total stranger, you know. Slinking around on it. My property, that is. I mean… who the hell are you?"

"Slinking?" he inquired indignantly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. He swept his hat from his head and bowed deeply, an elegant and manly cavalier. "Miss McCahy, I assure you that Slaters do not slink."

"Slater?" she demanded with a quick frown.

"Captain Malachi Slater, ma'am. Cole's brother. On leave — and on new duty, or so it seems. You mean to tell me that Cole didn't say anything?"

She felt as if her knees were going to crumble. Cole was gone. And he hadn't even said goodbye.

"Cole —"

"He had a few things to attend to. I'll be with you for a while. If you don't mind."

She did mind. She minded terribly. Not that Malachi was here, but that Cole was gone. She forced herself to smile and to extend her hand. "Why, Mr. Slater, I'm thrilled and grateful for your appearance. Completely thrilled and entirely grateful."

"Thank you, Miss McCahy." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Then his blue eyes met hers again and she was certain that he knew everything. And there was something in his gaze that suggested that he understood her feelings.

She withdrew her hand suddenly. "Oh, my God!"

"What?"

"You're a Confederate officer."

He stiffened, and his jaw took on a stubborn set that reminded her of his brother. "Miss, last I heard, Missourians were still considering themselves Southerners — for the most part, that is."

Kristin nodded vaguely. "Well, yes, Mr. Slater. But this is a border country. Half the land around here is occupied by Federal forces."

"Don't worry about me. I'll change into civilian clothing quickly, and I'll avoid the Federals."

She shook her head again. "It's just that, well, I have a brother who is a —"

"A Yankee?"

"Ah… yes, a Yankee."

He looked a lot like Cole. A whole lot. He was very tall and very broad-shouldered in his dress shirt and cape, and at the moment he looked very severe, as if he were about to explode.

But he didn't explode. He suddenly started laughing. "Well, it's one hell of a war, isn't it, Miss McCahy? One hell of a war."

Suddenly the wall behind them exploded. Wood chips went flying from the solid impact of a bullet.

"What the hell?" Malachi shouted. He dragged her to the ground, shielding her with his body. Once again there was the sound of gunfire, and another bullet tore into the walls, sending more wood chips cascading down on them.

"Damn it, what the hell!" Malachi repeated.

What the hell indeed? Kristin had no idea who was firing at them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kristin lay facedown on the ground, dirt in her mouth, with Malachi on top of her, protecting her. Finally the firing stopped and she heard soft footsteps.

"Get off her, Reb!" Kristin almost laughed out loud with relief. It was Shannon.

"Watch it with that thing, little girl," Malachi said slowly, easing himself away from Kristin. He had angry narrowed eyes leveled on her sister. Kristin sprang to her feet and stepped between them. Shannon's temper was flaring, and her eyes were sparkling dangerously.

"I'm not a little girl, Reb, and I swear I'm damned accurate with this Colt," Shannon replied.

"Why, you little —" Malachi began.

"Stop, stop!" Kristin begged, reaching for the gun. She couldn't imagine trying to explain to Cole Slater why they had murdered his brother. "Shannon —"

"He's a Reb, Kristin. He's probably one of Quantrill's —"

"Don't you know a regular cavalry uniform when you see one, girl?"

Kristin lost patience and swung around. "Mr. Slater, please, just for a minute, shut up. Shannon, this is Cole's brother."

"Brother?"

Her eyes wide, she looked at Malachi, then at Kristin again. "Are you sure? They don't look much alike!"

"We have identical big toes," Malachi snapped sarcastically. Shannon stiffened.

Then, suddenly, there was the sound of another explosion. The three of them stared at one another blankly. Wood chips flew as a second bullet struck the barn wall above their heads.

"Get down —" Malachi began.

"Drop that gun!" The order was spoken in a commanding, masculine tone.

Shannon wasn't about to obey. She spun around, aiming. Malachi swore and slammed his fist down on her wrists. The Colt fell to the ground, and Shannon turned on Malachi, swearing and flailing at him with her fists. Malachi swore in return, and Kristin wondered how the two of them could be going at one another this way when someone else was firing at all three of them. They were warning shots, she realized. She stared blankly across the yard and saw that another man had come out of the shadows of the porch. He was younger than Cole and Malachi and dressed like a rancher in high boots, a long railway frock coat and a slouch hat that sat low on his forehead. Malachi paid no attention to him. As he came forward, the stranger tipped his hat to Kristin.

"They've got a set of rotten tempers between them, huh?"

"Do they?" Kristin crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the young man who had been doing the shooting. Shannon was still shrieking, fighting the hold Malachi had on her. Kristin ignored them both and kept staring at the newcomer. "Why were you shooting at us?"

"I thought she meant to poke a hole right through old Malachi there," he said solemnly. He had cloudlike blue-gray eyes and tawny hair. He smiled again. It was an engaging smile, and Kristin almost smiled, too, in spite of herself.

"I take it you're another Slater? Or are you a friend of the family?"

He stuck out his hand. "Jamie, ma'am."

Malachi let out something that sounded like a growl. "Damned brat bit me!" he thundered.

"Shannon!" Kristin implored.

She might have bitten Malachi, but the bite didn't keep him from maintaining his hold upon her, his arms around her waist. Her toes were barely touching the ground.

"Ah, Malachi." Jamie shook his head sorrowfully and said to Kristin, "He met Grant at Shiloh but he can't handle a little wisp of a girl."

"I'm not —" Shannon began.

"You are a foolish little brat!" Malachi said, releasing her at last and shoving her towards Kristin. She would have swung at him again, but Kristin caught her sister's arms. "Shannon, please!"

But Shannon was still staring at Malachi, seething. "I am not a brat, Reb. You attacked my sister —"

"And you attacked my brother," Jamie said pleasantly. "We're all even. And if Cole were here he'd say the entire lot of us were a pack of fools playing around with firearms. But then, Cole isn't here, and that's why Malachi and I are. Maybe we ought to try and start over."

"Cole sent you, too?" Kristin asked Jamie.

"Yes, ma'am, he did."

"I see," Kristin said stiffly.

Jamie grinned broadly. "No, ma'am, I doubt if you see at all. He had some business to attend to."

"I told her," Malachi said.

"My brother is a cavalry officer," Shannon snapped at Malachi, ignoring everything else. "And if he knew you were on his property he'd skewer you right through!"

He shook his head, looking as if he were about to explode. Then he exhaled in an exaggerated display of patience. "I thought I was supposed to be looking out for Quantrill, not a two-bit piece of baggage!" He shoved his hat down hard over his forehead and started walking toward the house. Kristin, amused, stared after him. Shannon, amazed, placed her hands on her hips.

"Where do you think you're going?" she called.

Malachi stopped and swung around. "In. For coffee and breakfast. And if you don't like it, little girl, that's just too damned bad. You take it up with Cole the next time you see him. He asked me to be here, and I'm here, and I won't be leaving, not until he gets back. Until that time, you do us both a favor. You stay clear of me. Way clear." He paused, then swore softly again. "Hell, I could still be out there with the Yankees. It'd be a hell of a lot less nerve-racking than a morning here!" Once again he turned. Kristin saw that Delilah was on the steps, watching them. She was grinning broadly.

"You must be Mr. Malachi."

Delilah's voice floated down to Kristin, and Kristin arched a brow at her. She and Shannon hadn't known that Cole's brothers were coming, but Delilah had. Cole had told Delilah what he was up to, and he hadn't said a word to them.

She gritted her teeth, damning Cole a thousand times over. What was this business he had to attend to? They had made a deal. Zeke was still out there somewhere. She didn't need a pair of baby-sitters. She needed to have Zeke taken care of.

And she needed to have Cole talk to her, to tell her about his life, not just walk away from her when the sun came up.

"You come on in," Delilah was saying to Malachi. "Breakfast's on the table, boys. Breakfast's on the table."

Kristin felt Jamie watching her. She turned to him, and she flushed, surprised by the knowing assessment she saw in his eyes. He had been reading her mind, or else he had been wondering about her relationship with his brother. No, he seemed to know what their relationship was already. She could read that in the look he was giving her.

Then he smiled, as if he had already decided that he liked her, and so she smiled, too. She liked Jamie. And she liked Malachi. She even liked the war he was waging with Shannon. She had felt like laughing as she'd watched them and she hadn't felt like laughing in a long time.

"I'm awful hungry, too," Jamie said. He offered her his arm. "Shall we go in for breakfast?"

Kristin hesitated, then took his arm, and they started toward the house. She paused, turning back to her sister. "Shannon?"

"I'll skip breakfast," Shannon said heatedly, her bright blue eyes still on Malachi's retreating back. "I don't rightly feel like sitting down with —" She paused when she saw that Jamie was studying her intently. "I'm not hungry." She spun around and stomped off to the barn. Kristin looked at Jamie again.

"Just where is Cole? I don't need looking after like this, you know. Cole and I had a — an agreement."