“He’s going to the river,” Angus told them, and put his finger to his lips for them to remain silent. He dismounted, took his horse’s reins, and began to walk over the rocky path. In the distance, they could hear the water rushing.

In the next minute, Angus stepped out of the bushes, and what he saw so astounded him that he just stood there and stared. Curious, the other three moved to stand beside him.

Sitting on a big rock beside a small river was a tall blond young man. His face and shoulders were hideously covered with blood and he looked to be sewing his scalp back together.

Angus tied his horse to a bush and went to the man. “Need any help with that?”

“No. I’m fine,” he said, glancing at the other men who were close behind Angus. “I meant to go on and try to get to the fort, but my head wouldn’t stop bleeding and the blood got in my eyes so bad I couldn’t see.”

With every stitch the young man made, the others winced. His fingers were long and moved easily as he held the ridges of his scalp together and sewed.

“Have you done that often, lad?” Mac asked.

“Not to myself,” the man said with a bit of a grin, but since his face was so bloody he looked more horrible than pleasant.

“So what happened?” Angus asked as he sat down across from the young man. “And who are you?”

“Matthew Aldredge.” He held out his hand to shake, but it was covered with blood. “Sorry. I’ll clean up when this is done.”

“I could-” Angus began.

“No!” Matthew said. “Really. I’d rather do it myself. Did you see the wagon?”

“Yes,” T.C. said. “And the dead bodies.”

“Poor men,” Matthew said. “They were killed right away.”

“Who did it?” Angus asked.

Matthew made a couple of stitches in his head, then put his hands down to rest them. The needle and thread dangled by his right eye, making him even more grotesque-looking. “I assume I was supposed to think they were Indians, but unless they’ve started speaking French, the men were in disguise. I take it the wagon I was on usually carries gold?”

“There wasn’t any on it?” Angus asked.

“None that the murderers could find,” Matthew said as he got up and went to the river. Bending, he washed his hands in the cool water. “They were angry and they killed all of us.”

At that, T.C. and Naps looked at him with wide eyes.

“You mean that they shot you in the head and thought you were dead,” Angus said.

“Yes. That’s it exactly. I don’t know how long I lay there with my head split open, but it was most of a day. The only thing I can think of to explain why I didn’t bleed to death is that my blood seems to coagulate rapidly.”

“They shot all three of you, then set the wagon on fire?” Mac asked.

“Actually, I was the one who set the wagon on fire. I figured a rescue party was looking for me so I thought I’d send out a signal.”

“You took a big chance,” Angus said.

Matthew sat down and again started sewing his head. “This is easier to do on a cow than on myself.”

The four men gave him a weak smile. He really was quite hideous-looking. How could anyone lose that much blood and still be alive?

“Are you a doctor?” Naps asked.

“No, just a farmer.”

“And you’re here to marry Betsy,” Naps said, anger in his voice.

“Actually, I came here to tell her that I won’t marry her. I thought that was a lot kinder than writing her a letter.”

“But she’s expecting to get married,” Naps said, sounding like he was ready to fight for Betsy’s honor.

“I know,” Matthew said. “It was the oddest thing. When I was with her, she was all I could think about, but after she left, I could barely remember her. We corresponded and… Well, when you read letters written by someone and when you’re not distracted by a pretty face, you see things that you didn’t see before.”

“Like that she’s as dumb as a fence post?” Mac said.

“Exactly!” Matthew answered.

“What did he say?” Naps whispered to T.C.

“That he’s not good enough for a girl like Betsy,” T.C. answered quickly.

“Anyway,” Matthew said, “when I woke up, the sun was much lower in the sky, so I knew it’d been hours since we were attacked. I’d seen that one of the horses eluded capture, so I hoped to find him, but I’m afraid that I lost consciousness. That was yesterday. Today, I managed to set the wagon on fire, then I came here to the river.”

“You don’t know where the men who robbed you went, do you?” Angus asked.

“My French isn’t very good, but does the phrase ‘three pretty daughters’ mean anything to you?”

“McNalty,” Angus and Mac said in unison.

Angus looked at Matthew. “Can you ride?”

“Of course,” Matthew said. “If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll wash this blood off.”

“We can’t take the time,” Angus said.

“Besides, I like it,” Mac said, grinning at the young man. “I bet that under there, you’re a pretty boy.”

Matthew grinned, showing bloodstained teeth. “Ugly as mud.”

As Mac mounted his horse, he looked at the other men. “In fact, I’d say that, except for me, the best-looking men at the fort are right here.”

Angus paused for a moment with his foot in the stirrup, then glanced at Mac. “And you’re the man Austin hates the most.”

“Who’s Austin?” Matt asked as he got on the horse behind T.C.

“Think of the worst man you’ve ever met,” T.C. said. “Now triple it and you haven’t come close to Austin.”

Angus wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew that it was bad. And with every second he was more sure that Austin was behind it. The fact that he, Angus, had been sent to find the fiancé seemed to be part of the plot.

If Angus had been alone, he would have headed east and gone back to civilization, the army be damned, but he had three soldiers and a man who looked more dead than alive with him, so he couldn’t leave. He thought maybe the whole thing about the “three pretty daughters” was part of the trap, but he couldn’t be sure. He hated having to leave the two dead soldiers who’d inadvertently become part of Austin’s treachery, unburied, but they needed to get to the McNalty cabin as quickly as possible.

“Where the hell are you taking us?” Mac asked as he tried to keep up with Angus.

“A shortcut,” Angus said over his shoulder, and looked back at the men behind him. He was surprised but pleased to see that Connor and Aldredge had traded places and the blood-smeared young man was now holding the reins to the horse, while Connor held on for dear life. Angus saw at once that Matthew Aldredge knew a great deal about horses.

“Like a girl, is he?” Angus said to Mac as he nodded toward the young man as he led his horse across a stream full of slippery, moss-covered rocks. Poor Welsch was scared to death.

“I’ll switch them,” Mac said, reading Angus’s thoughts. “You go on, we’ll catch up with you.”

“I’ll leave a trail,” Angus said, and in the next moment he was gone.

Mac had Connor and Welsch trade places so Naps could have a break. After he mounted, Naps threw his arms around Aldredge’s waist, put his head against his back, and said, “You’re second only to Betsy,” which made them all laugh.

Mac led them quick and hard as he tried to catch up with Angus. He knew where the McNalty cabin was, but he also knew that Angus was a great deal more familiar with the country than he was.

He tried to follow the trail that Angus left, but he was having trouble seeing the broken branches. The bushes all looked alike to him-but not to T.C.

“There!” T.C. called ahead. “On that Kalmia.”

Mac gave him a look that could have set his hair on fire.

“That shrub on your right,” T.C. said meekly.

Mac motioned for him to come forward, and T.C., alone on a horse that he could barely ride, was made the leader. It was easy for him to see what was wrong with a plant and where Angus had left a trail. And he surprised even himself when he so quickly adjusted to his new role of authority. When Naps, still holding on to Matt, reached out to touch a plant, T.C. ordered him to stop. “That’s poisonous!” he said. “Don’t touch anything unless I tell you to.”