There were eight horses and men charging us, and we managed to down all eight of them, though some were very damned close before the arrows really did a complete job on the horses.The only Comanche to survive the tumble from his horse was the last one, and that was because he had slowed his horse in preparation for his lance attack. I killed his horse with a dart, and the man dropped almost at my feet. I dropped from my horse to examine him and to make sure that he was still alive. When I got close enough to him, I pissed in his face to make sure that I had his full attention!"You are not worth killing, you miserable excuse for a man. I'm going to let you live so that you can tell your people how we brave Mescaleros treat vermin who try to bother us." I rubbed salt in the wound by saying, "You see that we killed all of your horses because we do not think that stupid Comanches know how to select the best horses, and they are worthless to us. Be sure to tell your people what I said, or. ‘Momma. Please. The cold floors are not good for your arthritis. You know how much it pains you when winter comes.’ Kiley had steadfastly refused. She’d known her place when she met Edgar and it was in that place that he would expect her to be when he came for her. She would admit only to herself and Edgar when she was alone with her memories, that it was difficult to stand after kneeling among the pillows. But this too would pass, though she never mentioned as much to her daughter. A few times she had allowed Abigail’s husband or brother to pick her up and settle her on the couch. When they left, she would slowly stand and make her way back into her pillows to wait. She sat there now, gnarled fingers cloaked in paper thin skin stroking the teardrop diamond suspended from the thin gold collar around her throat. More years ago than she could remember most days Edgar had placed the collar there, his laughing brown eyes sparkling with joy and happiness as he claimed that which had.
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