"Frightened and horribly frustrated, Loretta sank onto a rock and hugged her knees. Amy's life depended on it. And so did hers. The word dripped into her mind, as cold as melt-off ice. Hunter had made it look easy, but he was a Comanche. She was a stupid How could she hope to track Comanches out here when some of the finest scouts in the country had failed? Loretta sighed and stood up. She couldn't turn back. The Comancheros had Amy. To admit defeat would be like signing Amy's life away. Friend had wandered to the far side of the water hole, grazing. Loretta circled the pool to fetch him. She had walked perhaps thirty feet when she glanced down. The earth on this side of the pool was torn up with hoof marks. Unshod horses had been here. One of the prints was achingly familiar, a notched crescent. "They were here!" she screeched. Friend lifted his head and fastened bewildered brown eyes on her. Loretta started to laugh. She wasn't just any stupid She was a stupid on a perfectly wonderful Comanche pony. She ran her hands into her hair and closed her eyes, letting the fear flow out of her. Hunter would never have told her to come to him if he hadn't believed she could find him. Between her and Friend, they would make it. Loretta mounted up, no longer feeling so horribly alone. As crazy as it was, she felt as if Hunter rode beside her."