Cassie had to smile when Bordeaux positioned himself in a spot less than ten feet from her and pretended to settle down for the night. He wouldn't sleep. She lifted her head.
"Chauncey?"
"Hum?" he answered in a sleepy voice.
"I'm sorry about last night. It's not your fault. Dad shouldn't have dragged you into this."
"Forget it."
She dropped her head back to the blanket. She was exhausted but sleep seemed unlikely.
A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her awake. It was dark and cold. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Is it my turn to watch?"
Bordeaux chuckled. "It's time to go, sleepy head. We're all ready. Now get on my horse."
"Your horse? You mean my mule."
"No, I mean my horse. If something happens to the rest of us, I want you to ride as fast as you can to Ashley."
She stood and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. "Stop treating me special. I took my risks when I joined this group and I'm willing to face up to my responsibilities."
"That's a nice thought, but the rest of us aren't willing to let it stand that way.
"I can take care of myself."
"Stop arguing with me and get on that horse, or do you want me to put you on it?"
"Cassie," Pete's barnyard whisper reached out of the night. "Do what he says. You're holding us up."
Bordeaux helped her into the saddle and then mounted one of the mules. They each went to their assigned wagon and lit a match, tossing it inside the wagon and moving away from the circle almost in unison. Everyone was supposed to ride out in a different direction, but Bordeaux never left her side. Separating might increase the risks for some, but it would reduce the risk of everyone being captured.
By the time the wagons were fully engulfed in flames, they had traveled far enough to be out of the firelight. They converged then, and moved quietly across the sand, hoping the Indians didn't burst from the night to attack them. From the top of a dune they paused for a backward glance. The flames threw eerie lights into the sand around the wagons, but nothing moved. For the first time, Cassie realized what a target they had been around the fire at night. She shuddered. Were the Indians waiting in the desert ahead?
"Come on," Bordeaux whispered as he brushed past her. "We need to travel as far as we can tonight."
She nudged the horse with her heels and rode beside him. There would be no moon tonight. A fact that made navigation more difficult, but it would conceal their trail from the Indians. Still, come morning, their tracks would be plain enough in the sand. That made progress tonight crucial to their escape. The Indians must know they had abandoned the wagons, and their tracks would be illuminated by the firelight. That was probably why Bordeaux had instructed each of them to take a separate direction. Surely the Indians would guess that their quarry would eventually reassemble. But were the Indians interested in the people, or the food the wagons contained?