where you belong. She says I can take you home.”
“Why did they take me away in the first place?” Penelope gasped, still starting at him.
“They didn’t,” he informed her. “She says they found you unconscious on the road. You were too hurt to leave you by yourself, so they brought you with them.”
“But they attacked the carriage,” she retorted.
He cocked his head on one side. “I don’t think so.”
“Yes, they did,” she maintained. “I saw them.”
“What did you see?” he asked.
“Indians on horseback,” she replied. “They were waving their weapons and screaming at us. Their faces were painted up, and they drove the carriage off the road.”
“Did they have long hair?” he questioned her. “Or was their hair cut short?”
“They had their heads shaved,” she asserted. “All except for a patch in the middle, running back along the top of their heads. Like this.” She showed him with her hand.
“Those were Comanches,” he declared. “They are at war with white people. The Comanches attack anything that moves along the road, if they can find it. They probably didn’t realize that you were still alive, or they would have killed you the way they killed Pete. He was the man driving you. These people are Shoshones. They are friendly. You should have realized that. They’ve been very anxious to take care of you and to get you home again. This woman,” Caleb indicated the custodian. “she arranged for her husband and some of the other men to take you back to the nearest town but on the way, they had to hide from a band of what looked to them like hostile bandits, so they decided to bring you back here until they figured out what to do with you. I told them that the sheriff is out with a posse looking for you. Anders is very angry that they haven’t been able to find you. These people didn’t know the sheriff was looking for you, otherwise, they wouldn’t have hidden themselves and you from them.”
“Is Anders out looking for me, too?” Penelope murmured.
“No,” he smiled. “He’s at home, waiting for the sheriff to find you.”
“Well, how did you find me, then?” Penelope inquired.
“I heard about the carriage being found wrecked on the side of the road,” Caleb recounted. “I also heard that the horses were never found, so I figured they must have been taken by someone. They found Pete’s body, but not yours, so I reckoned whoever took the horses must have you, too. I knew this band of Shoshones had a camp here, and I thought you might be here. If you weren’t here, they might know something about where you were, so I came to check. I guess I just got lucky.”
“How do you know their language?” she pressed him.
“My mother is part Shoshone,” he revealed. “I think you know her. She’s the cook at the West’s house. Janet, they call her, although that’s not her real name.”
Penelope gaped at him, seeing him as if for the first time. She detected no resemblance between the two faces but she understood her own mental connection between them now. In the general aspect of each and their facial expressions, one reminded her of the other. The magnitude of their personalities dominated her awareness. Everyone else, besides these two, seemed to her to be cardboard cut-outs plastered against the backdrop of life, leaving only these two in the foreground, three-dimensional, warm-blooded, and dynamic. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She could never look at any person the same way again.
“What’s the matter?” he examined her. “Are you unwell?”
“No, I’m fine,” she shook her head again. “I’m just surprised to see you here.”
He spoke to the custodian again, then turned back to her. “We’ll stay here tonight. Then we’ll go back in the morning.”
“I’m sure Anders will be glad you found me,” Penelope remarked.
Caleb laughed. “I don’t think so. He’ll be mad. Oh, he’ll be glad to get you back, but he’ll be