10

«Wolfe, I can’t believe it’s really you! Caleb said the high passes were buried in snow after the last storm.»

Willow’s husky contralto cry made Jessica’s lips flatten into an unhappy line. She should have expected the bloody paragon to have a beautiful voice. Rather grimly, Jessica waited to see what the paragon looked like, but even when Willow stepped from the house, she was still concealed by the dense shadows of the porch.

«It’s me, all right,» Wolfe said, smiling as he dismounted and crossed the ground with long strides to give Willow a hug. «I’ve brought you a present.»

«Seeing you is present enough,» she said, laughing and holding out her arms.

The clear affection in Willow’s voice and face was matched by Wolfe as he folded Willow close in a gentlebearhug. A dark combination of jealousy and despair snaked through Jessica, shaking her, for she had believed she could no longer be touched by anything but the black wind whispering to her of nightmares that had been reborn in daylight, and memories that refused to remain forgotten.

I would have had a chance with Wolfe but for the bloody paragon. She is destroying me as surely as slow poison.

Jessica stared into the shadow of the porch, but could see nothing of Willow except slender arms wrapped around Wolfe’s waist.

She’ll be beautiful, ofcourse, Jessicathoughtbitterly.Asbeautiful as this huge meadow and as perfect as those mountains crowned with ice.

Unhappily, Jessica glanced around, measuring the glory of the mountain ranch against the darkness that was condensing relentlessly in her soul, draining color from her life as surely as the slow condensation of night would drain color from the day.

«Come and meet your present,» Wolfe said, smiling down at Willow as he released her.

«Meet a present?»

«Ummm.»

The purring sound of pleasure Wolfe made was a steel-tipped whip flaying Jessica’s raw emotions. She had thought she could feel no greater rage, no greater despair, than she had felt the day she had ridden over the Great Divide.

She had been wrong. She seemed to make a habit of being wrong where Wolfe was concerned.

May the bloody paragon writhe in Hell.

Then Willow stepped into the bright sunlight and Jessica’s breath came in with a harsh sound. The paragon wouldn’t have to wait for Hell. It had already sunk its unsheathed claws deeply in her body. Willow was in the last stage of pregnancy, frankly round with the babe that would tear her apart trying to be born.

Dear God, help her in her time of need.

The silent, involuntary prayer that vibrated through Jessica was deeper and more powerful than her jealousy. She could take no pleasure in the agony that awaited Willow in childbed. Nor could she hate Willow any longer. Jessica could feel only a terrible empathy with the girl whose fate was to writhe and scream for mercy that never came, a wife’s endless cycle of male rutting and childbed’s torture; and over all, around all, consuming all was the black wind and the disbelieving shriek of the newly damned.

The realization of what awaited Willow made the sound of her laughter and teasing voice almost too painful for Jessica to bear. She watched with helpless agony as Willow took Wolfe’s arm to steady herself across the uneven ground where small patches of snow and mud competed with the green resurgence of life.

When Willow walked past Two-Spot, she looked up at Jessica with curiosity and a quick smile that offered friendship. Jessica smiled in return, but Wolfe didn’t stop or even look up.

«Wolfe?» asked Willow, tugging on his arm.

«Your present is next in line.»

Grinning, Rafe kicked his right leg over his horse’s mane and slid to the ground. When he took off his hat, the sun blazed in his pale gold hair, hair that was the exact color of Willow’s.

Willow stared, made a sound of joyous disbelief, then began laughing and crying and sayingRafe’s name over and over again.Rafe picked her up in a big hug and held her for a long time, saying things that were too soft for anyone but Willow to hear. Finally, he set her down and blotted the happy tears that were streaming down her face.

«Well, Willy, I have to say you grew up to be quite a woman. From what Wolfe told me, you’ve got yourself a fine man.»Rafe paused, then added slyly, «Sure as hell he’s a potent one.»

Willow flushed, laughed, and swatted her older brother on his broad chest. «Shame on you. You’re not supposed to notice.»

«Be kind of like overlooking a mountain,» he retorted. «When are you going to make me an uncle?»

«In a few weeks.» She smiled up at her older, much bigger brother. «Dear Lord, Rafe. It’s so good to see you! I can’t wait until Caleb and Matt get back from checking the north meadow.»

«I can’t wait, period. I’ll ride out as soon as we’ve unloaded the pack animals.»

Willow slipped her arm throughRafe’s and said, «I’m almost afraid to let you out of my sight. It’s been years.» She rubbed her cheek against his arm and took a deep breath. «Now, introduce me to your wife. She’s beautiful, but I expected that. You always had an eye for beauty, whether it was women, horses, dogs, or land.»

«Red is beautiful, all right,» Rafe agreed, «but she’s Wolfe’s wife, not mine.»

Open-mouthed, Willow spun and stared at Wolfe. Every question she had died unspoken when she saw his bleak, blue-black eyes.

Swallowing quickly, Willow turned to the girl who sat in her sidesaddle so elegantly. She had a delicate, elfin face, aquamarine gems for eyes, and hair whose buried fire rippled and shimmered with every motion of her body. The riding habit she wore had seen hard use, but its fashionable lines and fine fabric spoke eloquently of wealth.

Abruptly, Willow remembered. «Lady JessicaCharteris?»

«Not any longer. My name is JessicaLonetree. OrJessi.»

«Or Red?» Willow asked innocently.

«Or Red,» Jessica agreed, smiling slightly atRafe. «It’s the Western way to have nicknames, I’m told.»

«Get down and come into the house. You must be exhausted. I remember my first trip over the Great Divide. If it hadn’t been for Caleb, I wouldn’t have made it. He ended up carrying me.»

«We came the easy way,» Wolfe said. «Lady Jessica has neither your strength nor your adaptability.»

Willow gave Wolfe an uncertain look, wondering at the edge to his voice.

«I disagree,» she said quietly. «Anyone who came through thosemoutains riding sidesaddle is stronger than I am.»

Wolfe grunted and said nothing.

Jessica began dismounting, moving stiffly. Before she could put any weight on her right leg, Rafe caught her waist between his big hands and supported her until her left foot was able to take most of her weight.

«I could have managed,» Jessica said in a low voice, «but thank you.»

Only Willow saw the instant of anger before Wolfe brought it under control, just as she had been the only one to see the small, almost involuntary movement he had made toward Jessica when she began to dismount.

«No point in pushing your luck,» Rafe said. «Your ankle still isn’t up to snuff.»

«What happened?» Willow asked.

«She fell off,» Wolfe said curtly.

«It’s nothing,» Jessica said. «A bruise. Nothing at all.»

«Nonsense,» Willow said, seeing the strain on Jessica’s face. «Come in and sit down. I’ll make you some tea.»

«Tea?» Jessica looked stunned. «You actually have tea?»

Willow laughed. «It’s left over from Wolfe’s last visit. He’s the only one who drinks it.»

Jessica gave Wolfe a shocked look, remembering how many times she had longed for a comforting cup of tea.

«But we had only coffee,» she said faintly.

«Western wives drink coffee. You wanted to be a Western wife. Remember?»

The cool taunt in Wolfe’s words was unmistakable.Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he winced and said something under his breath. But he said nothing aloud. He and Wolfe had reached a tacit agreement where Jessica was concerned: Jessica was Wolfe’s responsibility, notRafe’s.Rafe didn’t understand what was driving Wolfe, but he was certain that Wolfe wasn’t a cruel man by nature.

So was Willow. With a perplexed look at Wolfe, she took Jessica’s hand.

«Come with me.»

«First I have to care for my horse,» Jessica said.

«Let Wolfe do it.»

«Western wives take care of their own horses. They curry, saddle, bridle, clean the feet of, rub down, and otherwise —»

«Go to the house,» Wolfe interrupted curtly. «I’ll see to your horse.»

«Well, I should hope so,» Willow said tartly. «Jessihas ridden just as far as you have and she hasn’t a third your strength. Plus that ridiculous sidesaddle. I’d like to see howspritely you’d feel if you had to ride that way. Honestly, Wolfe, what’s gotten into you?»

Jessica wondered at the dull red stain on Wolfe’s cheekbones as he turned away and led horses toward the barn, but Willow tugged at her hand, distracting her.

«I’ve never been able to make a good cup of tea,» Willow confessed, leading Jessica firmly toward the porch. «You’ll have to show me how.»

«A paragon who can’t make tea.» Jessica blinked. «Impossible. Breathtaking.» She smiled slightly and shook her head. «Actually quite wonderful.»

«Who said I was a paragon?»

«I did,» Jessica admitted. «With a lot of encouragement from Wolfe.»

«Good Lord. Why?»

«Because compared to me, you are.»

Willow made a rude sound. «You’ve had a very long trip. It must have affected your mind. Not to mention Wolfe’s. I’ve never seen him so edgy.»

«Perhaps a cup of tea would help,» Jessica suggested with an unconscious sigh.

Willow muttered something that sounded like, «A swift kick in the pants might do more good.»

«Paragons don’t think such things.»

The hazel flash of Willow’s eyes was alive with wry laughter. «Perhaps. And perhaps paragons just aren’t caught thinking them.»

The front door opened and closed, cutting off the sound of women’s voices. The men hadn’t been able to hear any real words for the last few minutes, but it hadn’t been difficult to guess what the topic of conversation was — Wolfe’s manners.

Or lack thereof.

After a few moments of silence, Wolfe glanced up from the pack horse he was working on and let out a long breath. Hearing it, Rafe smiled.

«Well, I can see that marriage hasn’t trimmed Willy’s tongue one bit,» Rafe said wryly as he undid the saddle cinch. «She can still tear a mean strip when she has a mind to. Only thing she does better is make biscuits.»

Wolfe grunted.

«Of course,» Rafe said, lifting the saddle one-handed from the horse’s back, «the fact that a man knows he has it coming tends to make it sting all the worse.»

Wolfe spun around, ready to take exception toRafe’s calm words, but the other man had already turned away. Saddle balanced on one shoulder, saddle bags and bedroll slung over the other, Rafe was walking through the barn door.

Letting out another long breath, Wolfe made another stab at reining in his temper. The whole point of bringing Jessica to the ranch had been to show her how completely unsuited she was to be a Western wife. It hadn’t been to point out how hard Wolfe was being on her. He knew that already.

Just as he knew his plan to make Jessica cry annulment was working. Slowly, surely, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, he was wearing down her certainty that she would win the contest of wills with Wolfe.

I shall not tire of being your wife.

Yes, you shall.

With each breath Jessica took, they were coming closer to the moment when she would be forced to admit her defeat and free both of them from the cruel trap of a marriage that never should have been.

Wolfe hoped Jessica would give in soon. Very soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on grinding a graceful elf into dust. He had never felt another person’s pain so clearly. It was worse than being hurt himself, for he had learned to control his own pain long ago, when he had realized that to many people his Indian mother put him beyond the pale of true humanity.

The viscount’s savage.

But there was no way to control the effects of the pain Wolfe was causing Jessica. There was only the knowledge that when the pain became great enough, she would quit the sham marriage between aristocrat andhalfbreed bastard.

Nothing of Wolfe’s grim thoughts showed on his face as he worked over the horses, or later when he went to the house and found Jessica asleep in the extra bedroom. In the daylight filtering through the muslin curtains, she looked almost ethereal. Asleep, the fierce will that burned so surprisingly beneath her fragile surface was banked, giving no hint of what lay beneath the delicate features and fine bones.

Broodingly, Wolfe looked at the translucence of Jessica’s skin and the lavender shadows beneath her eyes. Seeing her like this, he could barely believe she had the strength to sit up, much less to defy him when men far stronger than she was would have given up the game long since.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced in Wolfe…a cold day in spring and a creek in flood. Trapped amid the debris was a blue-eyed wolf cub whose back had been broken. The cub had snarled silently up at Wolfe, prepared to die fighting with teeth that had known nothing but a mother’s milk. Wolfe had allowed the cub’s needle fangs to sink all the way to the bone, for it had been the only way to get in close enough for a quick, clean kill, ending the cub’s suffering.

With an effort, Wolfe banished the memory and the chill that had come in its wake. He wasn’t going to harm Jessica physically, much less kill her. The trap they were caught in was less tangled than flood debris. It would spring open at a single word from her pale lips.

Annulment.

Wolfe tore his attention away from Jessica and began looking for places to put the valises and fur blanket he had brought in. The far corner looked promising, but a second look showed that it was occupied by a cradle. Stacked nearby were other tiny pieces of furniture, waiting the for next generation of Blacks to be born.

The thought of what it would be like to be awaiting the birth of his own child went through Wolfe like lightning, leaving only darkness in its wake. He set down the valises and turned to leave. His steps brought him past the bed. He stopped, held by something he could not name.

Jessica stirred and shivered with the residue of winter that still gripped the house. Despite her chill, she didn’t awaken. Instead, she huddled around herself as though understanding even in sleep that she must hoard her own warmth, for there was no one to care for her.

Jessi…damn it, what are you doing to us? Let go of me before I do something that we’ll both regret to our dying breath.

The soft fur blanket settled as lightly as a sigh over Jessica. Wolfe drew the blanket up to her chin, stared at the beauty of her hair against the lustrous fur, and then left the room in three long, silent strides.

* * *

«WHY am I called Reno?» he asked, repeating Jessica’s question.

«Oh dear,» Jessica said quickly, looking up from a plate of Willow’s delicious food. «Was it rude of me to ask? I’m still not certain of your customs.»

Reno smiled. The flash of his teeth against his black mustache was vivid, but not as vivid as the green of his eyes framed by thick lashes a woman would have envied. Like Willow andRafe, Reno’s eyes were slightly tilted, almost cat-like in their impact. Unlike Willow, there was nothing the least bit feminine about Reno. He was as big and hard asRafe.

And lifeRafe, Reno had been captivated by the delicate British elf whose ice-blue eyes and coolly accented English were at odds with the fire buried in her glorious hair.

«Red, you couldn’t be rude if you tried.»

As Reno spoke, he kept an eye on the huge basket of biscuits that was making the rounds of the dinner table. If he didn’t watch closely, Rafe would make off with more than his share.

«A while back I was looking for gold over in the SierraNevadas,» Reno said absently. «I came across an old Frenchman who had had some bad luck with a gold claim he called Reno’s Revenge. Later, I found the men who had the Frenchman’s gold and explained how much the old man needed it for his granddaughter. They thought it over and gave the gold back. After that, people started calling me Reno.»

Wolfe made an odd sound and put his napkin to his mouth. Nearby, Caleb choked quietly on a mouthful of venison. Jessica didn’t need to see the unholy laughter in Caleb’s amber eyes to realize she hadn’t heard the full story of how Matthew Moran had come to be called Reno.

«Dammit, unhand those biscuits,» Reno complained.

«I haven’t had thirds yet,» Rafe said.

«Over my dead body.»

«Whatever you say.»

Willow thumped her husband’s broad back and at the same time buried her face in her napkin, muffling her own laughter. After a moment, Caleb turned, captured Willow’s hand and brushed it against his lips. She lowered her napkin and curled her fingers through his as he returned his hand to his lap. Husband and wife resumed eating one-handed, for neither wanted to separate their closely linked fingers.

«Pass those biscuits along, boys,» Caleb said dryly. «There’s more in the kitchen.»

A curious sensation went through Jessica as she glanced from the corner of her eyes at the slender hand that was so carefully held in Caleb’s much more powerful grip. The longer Jessica watched Caleb and Willow, the more she realized that there was a genuine and quite baffling affection between husband and wife. Despite the fact that Willow was so heavy with the results of Caleb’s rutting that she could barely rise unaided from a chair, Willow watched her husband as though expecting the sun to rise in him at any moment. He watched her in the same way, his love very plain in his golden eyes.

Yet at one time Caleb had cared so little for Willow that he had given free rein to his baser nature, knowing full well that the result would be her agony in childbed. Caleb didn’t have the excuse or requirement of duty forcing him to put his wife at risk in such a way. There was no need for Willow’s painful fate, for Caleb had neither titles nor wealth nor ancient bloodlines to pass on to another generation. Yet Willow was pregnant just the same. Even more baffling, she appeared quite happy about her state.

Frowning, Jessica tried to reconcile Willow’s dangerous pregnancy with Caleb’s obvious love for his wife. It was even more difficult to reconcile Willow’s obvious pleasure in a man who had so little regard for her welfare. Yet there, too, Jessica had no doubt of the reality of Willow’s emotions. She did not shrink from her husband’s touch. Rather, she sought it in subtle ways, crossing the room just to stand close to him when he laid the evening fire.

«You sure that’s how you got your moniker?» Wolfe asked neutrally.

«Close enough,» Reno said.

«That’s not even close enough for horseshoes,» Wolfe retorted.

As Wolfe spoke, he snatched a handful of biscuits before passing the basket on down the table. A week of watching the two brothers steal Willow’s biscuits had taught Wolfe to grab first and worry about manners later.

«Way I heard it,» Wolfe continued, splitting a steaming biscuit, «was that old Frenchman found himself a glory hold and went to work cleaning it out. When he was finished, four men jumped him, left him for dead, and took off with the old man’s gold.»

Jessica looked up, caught by the thread of amusement and something else that ran through Wolfe’s words. It took her a moment to identify the emotion. It was affection. The camaraderie between Wolfe and Reno was as real and, in its way, as deep as that between Reno andRafe. The same emotion extended to Caleb. The mutual respect was striking, for it was based not on family or name or position, but on each man’s assessment of the others as men worthy of friendship.

«You found that Frenchman, nursed him, then tracked the claim jumpers,» Wolfe continued. «You walked into the saloon, called them thieves and cowards and some other names not fit for the dinner table, and then you demanded they return the gold they had cleaned out of Reno’s Revenge. Instead, they went for their guns.»

When Wolfe said no more, Jessica made an impatient sound and asked, «What happened?»

Wolfe’s smile was as cool and clean as the edge of a knife. «Way I heard it, Reno waited until they got a grip on their guns and started pulling them out. Then he drew. The first two claim jumpers never even got their guns clear of their belts. The rest of them got their guns out, but never got off a shot.»

Jessica gave Reno a startled look. He was pouring an intricate pattern of honey over a steaming biscuit, ignoring the conversation completely.

«After that, folks started talking about Reno’s Revenge and a man who was pure hell with a six-gun,» Wolfe concluded. «Pretty soon they were just talking about a man called Reno, a man who would help you if you drew short cards in a rigged game, a man who didn’t look for fights but didn’t back away when one found him. I liked what I heard, so I looked Reno up.»

When Reno turned toward Wolfe to reply, Jessica calmly filched a biscuit from Reno’s plate.Rafe saw, winked, and passed her the honey. Jessica smiled and looked sideways at Reno. She knew his quick green eyes had seen the small theft, just as she knew he could have retrieved the biscuit before she had a chance to blink. Reno had the fastest reflexes of any man she had ever met.

«Pass the biscuits,» Reno said. «A certain small redhead stole one of mine.»

«She’s just trying to keep you from getting fat,» Rafe said blandly.

«Then she better eat yours, too. Much more of Willy’s cooking and the only thing that will fit around your waist is that long bullwhip you fancy.»

Jessica looked from one hard, lean Moran brother to the other. She put her napkin over her mouth, but mere cloth couldn’t muffle her snickers. Reno heard and turned toward her.

«Are you laughing at me?»

Peeking over the napkin, Jessica nodded her head.

Reno’s face softened into a smile. «Sassy as your hair, aren’t you?»

Wolfe’s hand tightened around his fork as he saw Jessica’s eyes sparkle with amusement. He told himself that Reno couldn’t help being handsome as sin and lethal as hell. Nor couldRafe help his fallen-angel good looks and potent male charm, both of which he showed in abundance around Jessica. Neither Moran brother would have touched any man’s wife, much less the wife of a friend like WolfeLonetree, and he knew it.

Yet day after day of watching Jessica respond to their masculine teasing like a flower soaking up warm rain had worn Wolfe raw. He couldn’t remember the last time Jessica had turned toward him with light in her eyes and laughter on her lips.

And that’s the way it has tostay.Wolfereminded himselfsavagely.It’sbeen hard enough sharing abedwith her for the past week. If she looked up at me and smiled and held out her arms…

A shudder of raw desire went through Wolfe. He told himself he was a fool for not sleeping withRafe and Reno in the small cabin that had served as Caleb and Willow’s home while the big house was being built. If Wolfe had been in the cabin, he wouldn’t have lain awake for long hours, listening to the soft breathing of the girl who lay so close to him, yet never touched him at all. If he had been in the cabin, he wouldn’t have lain rigid with a need that grew greater every moment, his body demanding what his mind would not permit him to take.

And if Wolfe had been in the cabin, he wouldn’t have heard Jessica’s broken whimpers and muffled cries, wouldn’t have felt the erratic stirring of her body as she fought within the coils of a dark dream that came every night, waking her, waking him.

What is it, Jessi?

Nothing. I don’t remember.

Damn it, what is it that frightens you so?

I’m foolish, my lord bastard, but not stupid. I’ll give you no more weapons to turn against me.

So at night they lay side by side, stiff, sleepless, listening to the wind moan over the battleground between winter and spring.

«FISHING?» Jessica asked, looking up from the mending in her lap. «Did I hear trout fishing mentioned?»

Caleb and Wolfe were sitting at the dinner table, studying a map Caleb had drawn, showing the range of several nearby mustang herds. He turned away from Wolfe and looked at Jessica, who was mending one of Willow’s dresses by lantern light.

«Do you like to fish?» Caleb asked.

«No,» she said calmly. «I love it. I will walk through fire barefoot to get to a good trout stream.»

Caleb raised black eyebrows and looked at Wolfe.

«It’s the truth,» Wolfe admitted. «She’ll be out working a piece of water on a stormy evening when everyone else is in front of a fire talking about the one that got away.»

«Why didn’t you say something sooner?» Caleb asked Wolfe. «There’s some good trout water nearby.»

«It’s too early for trout to be out of their winter torpor.»

«Not along parts of the Columbine. There’s enough hot-spring water mixed into the stream that certain stretches of it come alive long before anything else does.»

«Truly?» Jessica asked.

Caleb grinned. «Truly.»

«Wonderful!»

Jessica set aside the mending and ran into the bedroom. When she returned, her hands were full of small boxes.

«What do the streamside insects here look like?» she asked eagerly, opening boxes and setting them on the dinner table in front of the men. Tiny, carefully tied flies rested within the boxes. «Are they light or dark, big or small, colorful or drab?»

«Yes.»

She gave Caleb a slanting, sidelong glance. «Yes?»

He nodded gravely. «They’re light and dark, big and small, colorful and drab.»

«Caleb, stop teasing Jessica,» Willow called from the back of the house.

«But I’m getting so good at it.»

Jessica tried not to smile, and failed. Caleb was indeed getting quite good at teasing her.

There was the sound of the wind slamming the back door, followed by footsteps as Willow walked through the kitchen into the living room. Sleet glistened in the wool shawl she had worn to the privy.

She shook the shawl and hung it on a peg near the door for the next trip, knowing it wouldn’t be long before necessity overcame her reluctance to face the cold scouring of the spring wind. The more pregnant she became, the more frequently she was forced to visit the privy’s drafty comforts.

«Jessigets quite enough ribbing from my brothers,» Willow continued, yawning. «Why don’t you try protecting her, instead?»

«That’s Wolfe’s job,» Caleb said, giving the other man an amused look, «and God help the man who gets in Wolfe’s way.»

Wolfe looked back impassively.

Caleb’s grin was rather feral. No matter how hard Wolfe tried to conceal his irritation at the handsome Moran brothers’ gallant attentions to Jessica, Caleb sensed the jealousy that seethed just beneath Wolfe’s calm surface. Caleb would have had more sympathy for his friend, but he didn’t understand why Wolfe was so hard on his young wife.

«I don’t mind the wayRafe and Reno tease,» Jessica said as Willow walked in from the kitchen, patting back another yawn. «I never had any brothers or sisters. I had no idea how much fun it could be.»

«No siblings?» Willow asked, surprised. «You poor darling. How lonely it must have been for you.»

Jessica hesitated, then shrugged. «It was all I knew. And I had the firth and forest to roam.» «I can’t imagine having only one child,» Willow said, shaking her head. «I want a house full of kids.»

«I imagine many women feel like that before they experience childbed.»

The barely muted horror in Jessica’s voice created a pool of silence that expanded and deepened until she realized her mistake and changed the subject with a determined smile.

«Do you like to fish, Willow?»

«Caleb is the fisherman in the family. He’s very good at it.»

Caleb gave Willow a lazy, sidelong glance and a crooked smile. Though not a word was said, her cheeks turned a revealing shade of pink.

«I’m a fair fisherman,» he admitted. «Don’t care much for fishing rods or lures, though.»

«You don’t?» Jessica asked. «What do you use, then? Nets or traps? Or do you hunt like the Eskimo, with spears?»

Caleb shook his head. «Nothing that fancy.»

«How do you catch fish, then?»

«Patience, stealth, and bare hands.»

His smile shifted as he measured the deepening color of Willow’s cheeks. His golden eyes gleamed with a frank male sensuality that surprised Jessica; up to that instant, she hadn’t thought of Caleb as a particularly passionate man. She had been wrong. The hunger in his eyes as he watched his wife was barely veiled by his half-lowered lids.

«You see,» Caleb explained in a slow, deep voice, «trout like to be stroked all over. That’s why they hold station in the fastest currents. Isn’t that right, honey? Don’t they just lie there, quivering, waiting for the moment when —»

Willow’s hands clapped over her husband’s mouth, cutting off his words.

«Caleb Winslow Black, if you weren’t too big, I’d turn you over my knee and teach you a few manners!»

Laughing, Caleb turned his head quickly aside, evading his wife’s attempts to muzzle him. Believing the caress would be hidden by Willow’s hands, he flicked the tip of his tongue between two of her fingers, stroking the sensitive skin.

But Jessica saw the secret caress, just as she saw the change in Willow’s smile and the brief, sensual glide of her fingertip over his lower lip. For an instant, something quite primitive arced between man and wife; then Caleb smiled and pulled Willow onto his lap with gentle hands.

«I’m too big for your knees, honey. You fit real nice across mine, though.»

«Caleb…»

Willow’s voice died. She flushed and glanced toward the other two people in the room.

«Hush,» Caleb said softly, pressing Willow’s cheek against his shoulder. «Wolfe andJessi are husband and wife. They won’t faint if they see you sitting in my lap.»

With a sigh, Willow relaxed against her husband. He shifted her more closely against his body, brushed a kiss over her hair, and leaned toward the boxes with their intriguing array of flies.

«You’ll probably have some luck with this one,» he said to Jessica, pointing toward something that looked like a black ant. «We have mayflies and caddis, too, so that box should fill many a frying pan.»

«Is the stream you mentioned far from here?» Jessica asked.

But the question occupied only part of her mind. She was still measuring the difference between marriage as she understood it and marriage as Willow and Caleb lived it.

Is this why Wolfe can’t be reconciled to our marriage? Did he expect of marriage what Caleb and Willow so obviously have — a union of lives rather than a merger of titles and wealth?

«The Columbine isn’t far,» Caleb said. «Wolfe knows how to get there.»

«Thank you,» Jessica said quickly, «but if it’s close, I’ll just go by myself.»

«Like hell you will,» Wolfe said. «If it’s the stream I’m thinking of, there’s a band ofUtes that winters there. They like hot springs as well as white men do.»

Caleb nodded. «There’s a small camp. No more than three or four families. Mostly old men, women, and boys. I haven’t had any trouble with them.»

«Yet,» Wolfe retorted. «You let down your guard and you’ll be missing some horses real quick.»

«Keeps a man on his toes,» Caleb agreed blandly.

Wolfe laughed. «You should have been a warrior.»

«He is,» Willow said sleepily. She yawned and burrowed closer to her husband’s strength. «If he weren’t, I’d have died a year ago.»

Long, amber eyelashes flickered down and Willow sighed, relaxing deeply against her husband, letting the rest of the world fade into the warm distance of sleep.

«Reno and Wolf j helped me,» Caleb pointed out in a dry voice.

Willow didn’t answer. She had fallen asleep. Caleb smiled and smoothed a bright lock of hair back from his wife’s face.

«You’re right about the camp,» he said quietly to Wolfe. «It’s not far from the best stretch of trout water for a hundred miles around. But as long as you keep your rifle handy, you won’t have any problems. TheUtes know Tree That Stands Alone. You’re a legend with them.»

«I’m sure Wolfe has better things to do than watch me lash a stream,» Jessica said quietly.

«That’s a fact,» Wolfe agreed.

Caleb looked from Jessica to Wolfe and bit back impatient words. Caleb didn’t know what was wrong between the two of them, but he had no doubt that something was. Normally controlled to a fault, Wolfe’s temper had become as volatile as nitroglycerin. He spent the days working like a man possessed, yet from the look of him there was no rest at night, nor any peace. Jessica looked no better. When she had arrived ten days ago, she had been exhausted from the long trip. She still looked exhausted.

«Nonsense,» Caleb said firmly. «It will do Wolfe good. He’s been working like two men.»

«Bull,» Wolfe said. «Looking after our broodmares isn’t work, it’s pleasure.»

«And digging pestholes, cleaning out springs, fencing offrockfalls and blind canyons, chopping firewood —»

«I said I don’t mind,» Wolfe said, cutting across the other man’s words.

«Do be quiet, you’ll wake Willow,» Jessica said, showing both men two rows of even white teeth.

«In any case, I won’t be leaving Willow while you’re out working all over the countryside. The babe could decide to be born at any moment. There is enough agony and terror waiting for Willow. She shouldn’t be alone in the bargain.»

«Hold your tongue,» Wolfe said coldly. «Not everyone feels as you do about bearing children.»

«Not everyone,» Jessica agreed with equal chill.

«Merely everywoman.»

«That’s enough!» Wolfe said.

«Jessica is right,» Caleb said abruptly. «God help me, she’s right about the danger. When I think of how Becky died…» His expression changed as he looked down at the woman who slept so trustingly in his arms. «Willow is my life.»

«I didn’t mean…» Jessica whispered, but no one was listening.

Caleb stood, lifting Willow with him. Without a word, he carried his wife into their bedroom. The door shut softly behind them.

Sleet rattled over the windows, breaking the silence Caleb had left behind. The howling voice of the wind curled through the room, filling all space, all silence, summoning all that Jessica had spent a lifetime trying to forget.

Hands clasped together until her fingers ached, Jessica fought not to show the fear she had lived with so long she couldn’t remember a time without it. The need to cry out was a constant aching in her throat. Hiding her fear was becoming harder each day. The nights were becoming impossible. Soon she would hear a woman’s screams mingled in awful harmony with the wind’s predatory cry.

Jessica wondered whether the screams would be Willow’s or her own.