"Anyone. Everyone. He had to send along a substantial dowry so the Sisters would accept her back. It's

the money he's protecting, not Angelina."

"Figures." Charlie turned away and mounted his horse.

Theresa followed, perching on the top step like a frightened bird set for flight. "Mr. Coltrain? Tell her I

just want her to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I was never strong enough to protect her. But you are. You'll make her happy, won't you?"

"Ma'am, I'll do my best."

She smiled. "I thought so. Be careful, won't you? My sons can be dangerous."

"So can I." Charlie tipped his hat and nodded to his mother-in-law before spinning Gabe around and riding up the hill.

Drew met him at the crest. "Sorry about that shot Reyes got off. Since he didn't hit you, I figured I should let it pass. Didn't want to start a small war with you in the middle."

Charlie nodded. "He was just showin' off."

"So where is she?"

"On her way to the convent in Corpus Christi."

Drew nodded. "How far ahead of us?"

"A day.

"No problem. We ride through the night and we'll catch up by midday."

"You don't have to tag along, Yank. Reyes sent all six of his disciples with her. They're packin' a lot of money and a lot of iron. Could be dangerous."

Drew shrugged. "Life's dangerous. I don't have anything better to do. And besides, I'd love to pull one over on Senor Reyes."

Charlie smiled. "My father-in-law doesn't make friends too easy."

"Not with me anyway. So how do two men take one woman away from six armed guards?"

"Why do I get to do all the planning?"

"Because you're the outlaw. I'm the ex-lawman. When it comes to kidnapping women from armed protectors, I'll leave the planning to you. If you need some advice on how to catch the culprit or rescue the woman, then I'll take over."

"Fair enough." Charlie's mouth twitched upward at the corner. He was starting to like Winston. The man's sense of humor tickled him.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'll let you know," Charlie said and kicked Gabe into a run. "Just as soon as I think of one," he muttered to himself.

Despite being inside her family's private coach, Angelina was covered in dust. She would have preferred to ride, but Miguel had given her brothers orders that she stay inside, out of sight. Since her lethargy over the past few weeks had sapped her strength, she didn't particularly care enough to argue with her brothers. Instead, she snapped closed the heavy curtain, effectively closing off the sight of dirt-dry northern Mexico.

Angelina shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat, her foot knocking against the carpetbag on the floor. With a childish gesture, she kicked the bag, and it skidded across the few feet of floor space. Inside rested a few personal items, some medical supplies and the substantial bribe for the convent.

The coach lurched, then slowed and Angelina straightened. It was too soon to stop for the night. Why were they slowing down? She reached for the curtain covering the window. Pushing the material aside, she glanced out.

Luke and John rode directly outside the window. They both peered into the distance, focused on a sight out of her view.

"What's the matter?" she shouted.

Luke glanced at her and shrugged. Angelina grimaced. Her brothers doled out conversation like misers hoarding gold. Sometimes she wondered if they could speak at all beyond a few necessary words.

The coach jerked to a stop, and she pitched forward onto the floor. Muttering words she never would have used two months before, Angelina righted herself. After smoothing her plain gray dress back into place, she kicked the door open and stepped out into the hot, dusty air. Luke, John, Timothy and Peter, all mounted, stood at the front of the coach where Matthew and Mark sat atop the driver's seat. All six stared straight ahead.

Angelina squinted into the sun. Maybe a mile in front of them, black smoke drifted upward.

"What is it?" she asked.

Six sets of shoulders shrugged. No one spoke.

"Indians?" she said.

Six heads shook a negative reply.

"Shouldn't we check and see if anyone's hurt?"

Five pairs of eyes turned to Matthew, the eldest, for a decision.

Instead of a verbal answer, he drew his gun and motioned for Angelina to get back inside. Once she did,

the coach started forward at a sedate pace. A glance out the window revealed all her brothers

approached the scene with guns drawn, black eyes twitching suspiciously.

Minutes later the coach stopped again. "Stay there," Luke hissed at her through the window when Angelina made a move to get out. Once he rode away, she ignored the order and stepped outside once again.

Black smoke continued to swirl upward from the burning remains of an unknown item. Two bodies lay

on the ground next to the fire. Not a horse was in sight.

"Robbery and murder," Matthew observed, returning his gun to the holster. The rest of the men followed suit. "Get a shovel, boys, and bury 'em."

Angelina tilted her head, frowning. Something about one of the bodies looked familiar. She shook her head. Grief had made her fanciful. But she would check to make sure the men were truly dead and not just badly injured before her brothers commenced with the burial.

Reaching inside the coach, she snatched her carpetbag from the floor and headed toward the closest body, gray skirts swirling around her ankles with every step.

"Angelina, get back inside the coach," Matthew ordered. "Our father gave strict orders."

"No."

"Angelina!" Her brother's voice held a note of warning.

She stopped and turned to face her brother. "What are you going to do to me, Matthew? Shoot me? I don't care. The only thing I have left to live for in this life is helping others, and if I can help these men at all, I'm going to do it. So if you want to stop me, then shoot me." Turning, she strode to the first fallen victim. None of her brothers made any further attempt to dissuade her.

The man lay on his stomach, face in the dirt. Angelina could see no sign of an injury on his back, and she

reached for his shoulder to roll him over. As she did so, he suddenly turned and grabbed her wrist.

Angelina opened her mouth to scream for help. Then her eyes met those of her captor and she gasped.

"You."

Drew Winston smiled, blue eyes crinkling in amusement as he jumped to his feet. He kept a tight grip on her wrist so he could drag her in front of him.

The cold barrel of a gun pressed to Angelina's temple, and she tried to flinch away.

"Just relax and go along with this, ma'am," he whispered in her ear, holding her tighter as she struggled. "No one will get hurt, and you can be on your way."

Angelina opened her mouth to ask where he thought she was going. But Drew was already shouting orders to her brothers.

"Put down the guns. All of them. Unless you want your sister's brains separated from her pretty, little head."

Her brothers froze. They all looked to Matthew, who was in charge as long as Miguel wasn't there. He scowled at Angelina for her stupidity, then threw his pistol and rifle to the ground. The others followed his example. Angelina struggled with her surprise. She never would have expected Matthew to choose her life over money.

"Wise choice," Winston said. "Now all of you line up over here where I can see you."

The six men did as they were ordered.

Angelina's mind spun. What was the Ranger doing here? Why was he kidnapping her? How dare he show his face to her after he'd dragged her husband away to be killed?

With that thought in mind, she stomped down hard on his foot with her boot. Winston's hold loosened enough for her to break free and spin around to face him.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "What did you do that for?"

"I'd kill you if I could," she hissed. "You-"

The angry tirade froze in her throat as the other man, the one she had assumed dead since he had not entered the fray, sat up. She fought to catch her breath as the man's long golden hair swung forward over his shoulders. Black eyes, which she had once considered hard and emotionless, locked with hers. The love in Charlie's gaze reawakened her cold and dead soul.

Angelina swayed, and Drew reached out a hand to steady her. "Whoa, there, ma'am. Don't go fainting on us now. We have too much to do yet."

She nodded weakly, accepting his help until she was able to stumble forward on her own.

Charlie stood, brushing the dust from his Levi's absently as he started to move toward her. One, two, three strides and they were together in each other's arms. She held him tightly, afraid if she loosened her grip he would disappear into the land of her dreams once more.

He smoothed her hair gently, almost reverently, and she looked up into his face.

An angel fallen to the earth, she thought. Then his lips came down on hers, and she thought of nothing beyond his embrace.

She had believed she would never feel such things again-passion, desire, all-consuming love. Those emotions, which had died when she thought she'd lost Charlie, leapt to life again within her at his kiss. She clung to him, pouring all her needs and fears and wants into the caress.

When they finally broke apart, Angelina's eyes were moist with tears. "How? Why?" she asked. "They told me you were dead."

Charlie sighed and ran his hand through his hair, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist as though afraid she would leave him if he let her go.

"It's a long story." He glanced over her shoulder at Drew. "And one I'd best save for when we're far away from here. Grab your things and let's go, Sister."

"Where?"

"I'll tell you that later, too. Right now I want to get away from your brothers as fast as we can. No one's takin' you away from me again without a fight. But I'd rather not have to shoot one of your relatives if I can help it."

Angelina turned slightly to observe the situation behind her. All six of her brothers had been tied and now sat on the dusty Mexican earth. Drew stood in front of them, gun drawn. He grinned at her and tipped his hat.

"Have a nice life, Angelina. You saved mine. Now I'm happy to give you a chance to find yours."

Angelina smiled back. "I'm sorry I stomped on you before. I didn't know."

He shrugged. "I've had worse injuries. I'll live."