After a moment of silence, Grady ventured to suggest, "When a woman faints, you're supposed to loosen her stays."

"She's not wearing any," Josh informed his friend. He had already thought of that, but the suppleness of the body he held had convinced him he would be wasting his time.

"Rub her wrists, then," Grady suggested.

Josh did so, marveling at the graceful, delicate bone structure of her hands. After a moment, she moaned softly. Josh glanced swiftly around the camp. "Cody, is there any coffee in that pot? Pour me out some if there is," he ordered, pointing toward where a battered, smoke-blackened pot sat near the campfire.

In a minute Cody handed him a half-filled cup. "That ain't real coffee, boss," he cautioned.

"What is it?" Josh demanded, sniffing the contents of the cup himself.

"Mesquite beans," Cody replied, naming the wild fruit of the Mesquite plant which was often substituted for coffee when the real thing was unavailable.

Josh grunted his disapproval and glanced around the camp again, searching for any signs that a meal had recently been prepared here. He saw none. If the girl was making coffee from Mesquite beans, she might also be low on food. If she had skipped a meal or two, that would explain why she had passed out. "See if you can find anything in the wagon and rustle up a meal. This poor kid looks like she hasn't eaten in a week."

Cody disappeared into the back of the wagon, and Josh held the cup to the girl's lips. Instinctively, she drank a few sips and then turned her head away.