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Eve said through her teeth.
    “Doubtless. But I’m a reasonable man. I won’t keep you forever. Just for as long as it takes to find the mine. Deal?”
    Eve looked at Reno for a long moment. She reminded herself that he had no reason to trust her, many reasons not to respect her, was quite capable of taking what he wanted and to hell with her protests; yet he was willing to treat her better than any inhabitant of the Gold Dust Saloon would have, given the same opportunity.
    “Deal,” she said.
    When Eve turned away to tend breakfast, Reno moved with his customary speed. She froze as his hand closed over her wrists.
    “One more thing,” he said.
    “What?” Eve whispered.
    “This.”
    She closed her eyes, expecting to feel the heat of his mouth over hers.
    Instead, she felt Don Lyon’s ring sliding from her fingers.
    “I’ll keep the ring and the pearls until I find a woman who loves me as much as she loves her own comfort,” Reno said.
    Then he added sardonically, “And while I’m at it, I’ll find a ship made of stone, a dry rain, and a light that casts no shadow.”
    Reno pocketed the ring and turned away. “Getsaddled up. It’s a long way over the Great Divide to Cal’s ranch.”
    “Why are we going there?”
    “Cal is counting on the winter supplies I’m bringing. And unlike some people I’ve met, when say I’ll do something, I do it.”

5
    B EYOND the Great Divide, the massive wall of mountains slowly changed, breaking into chains and clusters of ragged peaks rising in stone waves against the endless blue sky.
    Even in late August, the peaks were streaked with glittering snowfields. Creeks rushed down steep folds in the sides of the mountains, combined forces on the flats, then wound down long valleys and through basins like ropes of liquid diamonds beneath the sun. The vivid green of aspens and the darker greens of fir, spruce, and pine made a velvet robe across the mountain flanks. In the clearings, grasses and shrubs added their own bright shades of green to the land.
    Once Reno and Eve had ridden through the first pass beyond Canyon City, there were few signs of men traveling over the land, and even fewer marks of permanent residence. Wild animals abounded. Mustangs fled like multicolored clouds before a storm wind when Reno and Eve rode into lonelyvalleys. Elk and deer glided out from cover to browse along the margins of the clearings.
    Though wary of man, the deer weren’t as quick to flee as the wild horses. The pure, keening cries of eagles floating on the wind were woven like bright threads through the day.
    Reno was more wary than any of the animals. He rode every moment as though expecting attack. He never cut across a clearing unless it would take them miles off their course to circle along the margin where forest and grass met. He never crested a rise without pausing just below the rim to see what was on the other side. Only when he was satisfied that there were no Indians or outlaws nearby did he reveal himself against the skyline.
    He never rode into a narrow canyon if he could avoid it. If avoidance was impossible, he slipped the thong on his six-shooter and rode with his repeating rifle across the saddle. Often during the day he would retrace part of their back trail, find a vantage point, and simply watch the land for any signs that they were being followed.
    Unlike most men, Reno rode with the reins in his right hand, leaving his left hand free for the six-gun that was never beyond his reach, even when he slept. Every night he checked his weapons for trail dust or moisture from the afternoon storms that swirled through the peaks.
    Reno didn’t make a fuss about his precautions. He didn’t really even notice them anymore. He had lived alone in a wild land for so long that he was no more aware of his skill at it than he was of his skill in riding the tough blue roan he called Darlin’.
    Eve didn’t think the mare was anyone’s Darlin’. She was a hardy mustang with the