honey and vinegar when it comes to attracting flies.”
“She did. I’ve been using vinegar ever since. What sane girl would want to draw flies?”
A smiled flashed beneath Reno’s dark mustache.For an instant he thought how much Willow and Jessica would have enjoyed Eve’s tart, quick tongue—right up until the time she cheated or lied or stole something from them. Then he would have to explain to them, and to their irate husbands, why he had brought a saloon girl in red silk to their home.
Eve pulled a piece of bacon from the pan and put it on her battered tin plate.
Silently Reno admitted to himself that Eve didn’t look like a slut at the moment. She looked more like some waif blown in by the wind, worn and sad and frayed around the edges. Her clothes had once belonged to a boy, from the look of them—too narrow in the chest and hips, and too loose everywhere else.
“Whose clothesline did you steal that outfit from?” Reno asked idly.
“They belonged to Don Lyon.”
“Lord, he was a small man.”
“Yes.”
Reno stopped, struck by a thought.
“I didn’t see any new graves when I passed by Canyon City’s graveyard on the way in, but you said the Lyons were killed by Raleigh King.”
Eve said nothing in response to the implied question.
“You know, gata , sooner or later I’m going to break you of lying.”
“I’m not a liar,” she said tightly. “I buried the Lyons at our campsite.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“How?”
“With a shovel.”
With a speed that startled Eve, Reno straightened and grabbed one of her hands. After a singlelook at her palm, he released her.
“If you handled cards that deftly with a mess of broken blisters,” Reno said, “I’d hate to take cards in a game with you when your hands heal.”
Saying nothing, Eve went back to tending breakfast.
“You should wash them with soap and hot water,” Reno added.
Startled, Eve looked up. “The biscuits?”
He smiled unwillingly.
“Your hands. Jessi says washing wounds prevents infections.”
“I washed before I went to bed last night,” Eve said. “I hate being dirty.”
“You used lilac soap.”
“How did you know? Oh, you found it when you searched my saddlebag.”
“No. Your breasts smelled like spring.”
A wash of pink went up Eve’s cheeks. Her heart turned over as she remembered the feel of Reno’s mouth on her breasts. The fork she had been using on the bacon jerked, and hot grease spattered on the back of her hand.
Before the pain of it registered on Eve, Reno was there, looking to see how badly she had burned herself.
“You’re all right,” he said after a moment. “It will smart for a bit, that’s all.”
Numbly she nodded.
He turned her hand palm up and looked at the abraded skin once more. Silently he took her other hand and glanced at the palm. There was no doubt that her hands had been hard used, and recently.
“You must have worked a long time to chew up your hands like that,” Reno said.
The unexpected gentleness in his voice madeEve’s eyes burn worse than the skin that had been scored by hot grease. A wave of memories swept over her, making her tremble. Preparing the Lyons for burial and then digging their grave was something she would not soon forget.
“I couldn’t leave them like that,” she whispered. “Especially after what Raleigh did…I buried them together. Do you think they minded not having separate graves?”
Reno’s hands tightened over Eve’s as he looked at her bent head. The acute sympathy he felt for her was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. No matter how often he reminded himself that she was a saloon girl, she kept sliding beneath his guard as easily as the fragrance of her lilac soap was absorbed into his body with every breath he took.
He took a deep breath, trying to control his physical reaction to Eve. The breath didn’t help. Her soft, golden hair smelled of the same lilac soap that her breasts did. He had never been
“She did. I’ve been using vinegar ever since. What sane girl would want to draw flies?”
A smiled flashed beneath Reno’s dark mustache.For an instant he thought how much Willow and Jessica would have enjoyed Eve’s tart, quick tongue—right up until the time she cheated or lied or stole something from them. Then he would have to explain to them, and to their irate husbands, why he had brought a saloon girl in red silk to their home.
Eve pulled a piece of bacon from the pan and put it on her battered tin plate.
Silently Reno admitted to himself that Eve didn’t look like a slut at the moment. She looked more like some waif blown in by the wind, worn and sad and frayed around the edges. Her clothes had once belonged to a boy, from the look of them—too narrow in the chest and hips, and too loose everywhere else.
“Whose clothesline did you steal that outfit from?” Reno asked idly.
“They belonged to Don Lyon.”
“Lord, he was a small man.”
“Yes.”
Reno stopped, struck by a thought.
“I didn’t see any new graves when I passed by Canyon City’s graveyard on the way in, but you said the Lyons were killed by Raleigh King.”
Eve said nothing in response to the implied question.
“You know, gata , sooner or later I’m going to break you of lying.”
“I’m not a liar,” she said tightly. “I buried the Lyons at our campsite.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“How?”
“With a shovel.”
With a speed that startled Eve, Reno straightened and grabbed one of her hands. After a singlelook at her palm, he released her.
“If you handled cards that deftly with a mess of broken blisters,” Reno said, “I’d hate to take cards in a game with you when your hands heal.”
Saying nothing, Eve went back to tending breakfast.
“You should wash them with soap and hot water,” Reno added.
Startled, Eve looked up. “The biscuits?”
He smiled unwillingly.
“Your hands. Jessi says washing wounds prevents infections.”
“I washed before I went to bed last night,” Eve said. “I hate being dirty.”
“You used lilac soap.”
“How did you know? Oh, you found it when you searched my saddlebag.”
“No. Your breasts smelled like spring.”
A wash of pink went up Eve’s cheeks. Her heart turned over as she remembered the feel of Reno’s mouth on her breasts. The fork she had been using on the bacon jerked, and hot grease spattered on the back of her hand.
Before the pain of it registered on Eve, Reno was there, looking to see how badly she had burned herself.
“You’re all right,” he said after a moment. “It will smart for a bit, that’s all.”
Numbly she nodded.
He turned her hand palm up and looked at the abraded skin once more. Silently he took her other hand and glanced at the palm. There was no doubt that her hands had been hard used, and recently.
“You must have worked a long time to chew up your hands like that,” Reno said.
The unexpected gentleness in his voice madeEve’s eyes burn worse than the skin that had been scored by hot grease. A wave of memories swept over her, making her tremble. Preparing the Lyons for burial and then digging their grave was something she would not soon forget.
“I couldn’t leave them like that,” she whispered. “Especially after what Raleigh did…I buried them together. Do you think they minded not having separate graves?”
Reno’s hands tightened over Eve’s as he looked at her bent head. The acute sympathy he felt for her was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. No matter how often he reminded himself that she was a saloon girl, she kept sliding beneath his guard as easily as the fragrance of her lilac soap was absorbed into his body with every breath he took.
He took a deep breath, trying to control his physical reaction to Eve. The breath didn’t help. Her soft, golden hair smelled of the same lilac soap that her breasts did. He had never been
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