Reno bent down, found a cobble the size of his palm, and began hammering carefully on the rock wall. With each strike of stone against stone, the thin black veneer that time and water had left upon the stone chipped away, revealing the lighter stone beneath.
Within a surprisingly short time, he had picked out the date and the name Matthew Moran.
“Is your name really Evening Star?” Reno asked without turning around.
“My name is Evelyn,” she said in a husky voice. “Evelyn Starr Johnson.”
Then she blinked back tears, for she was no longer the only one alive who knew her real name.
EVE floated on her back, watching the sapphire sky overhead and the inky shadows that shifted slowly against sheer rock walls. The ripples made by falling water rocked her gently. From time to time she steadied herself with a hand on the smooth stone or on the cool bottom of the pool a few feet beneath her body.
Suspended in time as well as water, turning as slowly as the day, Eve knew she should go back to camp, but she wasn’t ready to leave the pool’s peace just yet. She wasn’t ready to face the smoldering green of Reno’s eyes as he watched her with a hunger that was almost tangible.
Eve wondered what Reno saw in her own eyes when he turned suddenly and found her watching him. She was afraid he saw a reflection of her own hunger for him. She wanted to know again the surprising, sweet fire that came when he held her close.
Yet she wanted more than Reno’s passion. She wanted his laughter and his dreams, his silences and his hopes. She wanted his trust and his respect and his children. She wanted everything with him that a man and a woman could share: joy and sorrow, hope and heartache, passion and peace, all of life ahead of them like an undiscovered country.
And most of all, Eve wanted Reno’s love.
He wanted her body. And nothing more.
I’ll keep the ring and the pearls until I find a woman who loves me more than she loves her own comfort.
And while I’m at it, I’ll find a ship made of stone, a dry rain, and a light that casts no shadows.
Eve closed her eyes on a wave of unhappiness. Yet no matter how tightly she shut her eyes against the truth, it was there behind her eyelids, haunting her.
There was one way to convince Reno that he was wrong about her. One way to convince him that she wasn’t a cheater and conniver, a strumpet in a red dress. One way.
Give herself to him, paying off a bet that never should have been made and betting her future once more at the same time.
Then he’ll see that I didn’t lie about my innocence, that I keep my word, that I am worthy of his trust. Then he’ll look at me with more than lust. He’ll want more from me than the use of my body until we find the mine.
Won’t he?
There was no answer to that question except to bet herself once more. A chill coursed through Eve at the immensity of the risk she would be taking.
What if he takes everything I have to give and gives nothing in return but his own body?
That was the danger, the risk, and the probable outcome. Part of Eve knew it with the cool logic of an orphan who had learned to survive whatever life threw her way.
And part of Eve had always believed there was more to life than simple survival. Part of her believed in miracles such as laughter in the face of pain, the joy of a baby discovering raindrops, and a love great enough to overcome distrust.
She’s a card cheat and a thief, and she set me up to die.
Unhappily Eve finished her bath, dried herself, put on the shirt Reno had lent her, and walked back to camp.
Reno’s eyes burned with hunger when he looked at her.
“I left the soap there for you,” Eve said. “And the towel.”
He nodded and walked past her. She watched until he disappeared into the slot before she went to the clothesline that had been rigged between two piñons.
Eve turned Don Lyon’s black twill pants over on the clothesline. The white ruffled shirt wasn’t quite dry. She shook it out and draped it over the rope again. She turned Reno’s dark pants over as well, envying him the luxury of a change of clothing. Since her flour-sack dress had fallen apart, she had nothing but Don Lyon’s second-best gambling clothes to wear, for she had buried him in his best.
There’s always the red dress.
A grimace went over Eve’s face at the thought. She would never again wear that dress in front of Reno. She would rather go naked.
Then she wondered if Reno was naked now, bathing as she had bathed in the rainbow pool. The thought was unsettling.
Eve’s restless glance fell on the journals lying side by side on Reno’s bedroll. Eve grabbed them and sat cross-legged, tucking the long shirttails between her knees. Beyond the narrow slot that held the pool, the sun was still a hot, slanting presence across the late afternoon sky. The clear, pouring light made the journals easy to read.
The spare prose of Caleb’s father said much about the centuries the Indians had spent under Spanish rule…
Bones poking up through the desert pavement. Femur and part of a pelvis. Looks to be a child. Female. Scraps of leather nearby.
Bent Finger says the bones belong to an Indian slave. Only the children could fit into the dog holes the Spaniards called mines.
Spanish sign on the rock. Crosses and initials.
Bent Finger says the scattered stones were once a vista, a kind of small mission. Tiny copper bell found with the child’s bones. It was cast, not hammered.
Spanish didn’t call them slaves. Slavery was immoral. So they called it the Encomienda. The savages owed the Spanish for Christian teaching. Pay off in coin or pay off in labor.
War was immoral, too. So the King had a Requerimiento, a requirement that had to be read before fighting commenced. It told the savages that anyone who fought God’s soldiers placed himself beyond the pale.
Upshot of the Requerimiento was any Indian who fought the Spanish was declared a slave and sent to the mines. Since Spanish was gibberish to the Indians, they didn’t understand the warning.
Not that it mattered. Indians would have fought anyway.
Spanish priests ran the mines. Slave labor. Men lasted about two years. Women and children a lot less.
Hell on Earth in the name of God.
Coolness condensed along Eve’s spine as she thought of the ruins she had seen back up the valley. The descendants of the people who had built those many-storied dwellings weren’t dumb animals to be enslaved by other men.
But they had been enslaved, and no war had been waged for the sake of their freedom. They had lived, endured brutal labor, died young, and been buried like rubbish in unmarked graves.
Eve felt a kinship with the forgotten dead. More than once in the past few days, she and Reno had come close to dying alone and unnoticed, their graves no more than whatever piece of earth they fell upon when they drew their last breath. The lesson of mortality was as old as man’s expulsion from Eden. Life was brief. Death was eternal.
Eve wanted more from life than she had known so far. She wanted something she couldn’t name.
Yet even without a name, Eve knew that it awaited her within Reno’s arms.
14
W HEN Reno came back to camp, Eve was dressed in camisole, pantalets, and one of his dark shirts. She was also curled up on his bedroll, asleep. Slowly he took the journal from her relaxed fingers and set it aside. She stirred sleepily and looked up at him with eyes that reflected sunlight and darkness.
“Move over, gata. I’d like a nap, too.”
When Reno stretched out beside Eve, she smiled.
“You smell like lilacs,” she murmured. “I like it.”
“You should. It’s your soap.”
“You shaved,” she said, touching a place on Reno’s neck where he had nicked himself. “I wouldn’t have cut you. Why didn’t you ask me?”
“I get tired of demanding things from you,” he said simply.
Eve’s eyes opened and she looked at Reno, hearing all
that he wasn’t saying.
“I like shaving you,” she whispered.
“What about kissing me? Do you like that, too?”
The green of Reno’s eyes was hot enough to burn, yet he made no move toward Eve.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I like that, too.”
Slowly Reno bent and put his mouth over Eve’s. She made a soft sound of revelation and remembrance in one. The warm, hungry questing of his tongue made her shiver with pleasure. For long, sweet seconds she relearned the velvet rhythms of penetration and retreat, knew once more the textures of his deep kiss, felt again the heat of him spreading through her in wave after wave of pleasure.
Reno cupped Eve’s face in his hands, letting the warmth of her skin radiate through him in a shimmering rush that was hotter and sweeter each time he felt it. Her warmth, her taste, her soft mouth opening beneath his, set fire to him.
“Gata,” he whispered. “You burn me.”
Her only answer was a broken cry and a shiver of pleasure as his teeth scored lightly over her neck.
The passionate cry was a razor fraying the cords of Reno’s restraint. He wanted to strip Eve’s few clothes away and bury himself in the sultry softness he knew waited for him within her body.
But even more than that, he needed to bring her to the point where she wanted him at least as much as he wanted her. He needed her crying and clawing and demanding that he take her. He needed her to forget all her cold feminine calculations and come to him without restraint, a golden fire burning him to the marrow of his bones.
Then he would burn her in return, leaving a mark on her that she would never forget. No matter how many men she had known before, she would never take another without remembering what it had been to be Reno’s lover.
He didn’t ask himself why it should matter that Eve never forget him. He simply accepted it as he had the uncanny currents of the Spanish needles, a mystery that didn’t have to be understood to be used.
Slowly Reno lowered his mouth over Eve’s once more, letting the rising currents of passion swirl back and forth between them, joining them in a quest that ultimately could have only one end.
Eve’s fingers slid deeply into Reno’s thick, cool hair, seeking the elemental warmth beneath. Her nails drew lightly over his scalp. The low sound he made was both reward and goad. She flexed her fingers again, and again felt the response that rippled through his muscular body.
“Such sweet little claws,” Reno said.
He bit Eve’s lower lip with careful restraint. She made a sound of surprise and pleasure. Smiling, he released her lip so slowly she could feel the tiny serrations of his teeth caressing the smooth, sensitive skin.
She leaned closer as he withdrew, for she wanted more of the gentle torment. He laughed softly and turned aside, denying her his mouth. When she tried to follow him, he held her face still between his hands. Her lips were parted, glistening with sunlight and desire, trembling lightly.
“Reno?”
He made a questioning sound that was rather like a purr of satisfaction.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” Eve whispered.
“Do you want to kiss me?” Reno countered.
She nodded her head.
Golden strands slid forward over his hands, caressing him with a cool fire. His suddenly indrawn breath filled his throat.
“Then do it, gata. Do it now.”
Eve saw the banked fire in Reno’s eyes, heard it in his low voice, felt it in the tension of his arms. Knowing how much he wanted her kiss made a strange heat coil deeply within her.
“Do you want to taste me?” she whispered. “Is that how you want it?”
But Reno couldn’t answer, for Eve had matched her mouth to his. The delicate explorations of her tongue made him groan.
She lifted her head.
“More,” he said huskily.
Eve gave Reno what he asked for, because it was what she wanted, too. The taste of him was familiar, her own mouth and his combined. His textures lured her, making her feel both dizzy and strangely powerful. She strained against him, needing an even deeper tasting of him. She wanted to hold him so tightly that she became a part of him, never to be wholly separate again.
With an urgency Eve didn’t understand, her hands stroked from Reno’s head to his shoulders as she leaned closer and closer to him. He neither advanced nor retreated, letting her come to him. Restlessly her arms tightened around his neck.
An exquisite sensation shot through Eve as her breasts met the muscular warmth of Reno’s chest. She hadn’t known how she ached for that contact until she felt it. Instinctively she began to twist slowly against him, dragging the hardening peaks of her breasts over the tense muscles of his chest.
The sound Reno made was both encouragement and sensual demand. She sank her nails into the tightly corded muscles of his back, wanting to feel his powerful arms around her, wanting to be held against him more tightly than her arms alone could manage.
When he didn’t respond as she wished, she made a frustrated noise.
“What?” Reno asked in a low voice.
Eve tried to draw his mouth down to hers once more, but he was far stronger than she was. He held his lips just above hers, teasing her with the kiss he withheld just as he was withholding his strength from her passionate demands.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
“To kiss you.”
He brushed her mouth with his lips.
“Like that?” he asked.
“No. Yes.”
“No and yes?”
The tip of Reno’s tongue teased Eve’s lips while she struggled to be closer.
“Yes,” she said, shivering at the touch of his tongue.
And then he withdrew.
“No,” she said quickly.
“Yes and no. Make up your mind, sweet gata.”
“Reno,” Eve said urgently. “I want…more.”
His breath came in as though she had flicked him with a whip.
“Open your mouth,” Reno said in a deep voice. “Kiss me that way. Let me see that you want it as much as I do.”
Sunlight glistened on Eve’s lips and on the tip of her tongue. Reno made a low sound and tightened his arms, lifting her face up to his.
“More,” he said, brushing his parted lips over hers.
Eve trembled and did as he asked.
Reno’s mouth closed over hers, and his tongue slid into the warmth that had opened for him. He took her mouth as he meant to take her body, completely, a seamless melding of flesh and honeyed heat.
The feathering touch of air across Eve’s skin when Reno unlaced her camisole was like the edge of his teeth, an exciting contrast to the satin heat of desire.
Eve didn’t know how much her breasts ached to be stroked until Reno’s hands cupped and his thumbs prodded nipples into proud peaks. She didn’t know he was lying half over her until his fingers plucked the taut nipples and streamer after streamer of fire shot through her, making her arch into unexpected contact with his body.
She would have cried out at the sensual pleasure of her body against his, but the only cries the deep mating of mouths allowed were small noises from the back of her throat. He drank the passionate whimpers and silently demanded more, teasing and kneading her sensitive breasts. Long fingers stroked and shaped and tugged until she twisted almost wildly beneath him.
Only then did Reno shift again, flowing completely over Eve, giving her what she had needed without knowing it. His hips pressed against hers, sinking into her until she moved her legs apart in an instinctive effort to match the aching softness between her thighs with the rigid proof of Reno’s hunger.
Eve didn’t know who made the hoarse sound of discovery when Reno fitted himself against her. She knew only that fire spiraled wildly, burning her. Her nails dug heedlessly into the flexed muscles of his back as she gasped, in the grip of a pleasure that burned.
Reno didn’t object to her nails. He simply groaned his response and dragge
d his hips over her in passionate reflex. The liquid fire of her response spread between their straining bodies.
Surprise froze Eve until Reno’s hips moved again, sending wildfire racing through her body in a burst of heat she could neither deny nor conceal. When he repeated the movement, his tongue shot into her mouth in a possession that was total yet so tantalizing in its lack of completion that Eve wept.
One of Reno’s hands moved between their bodies. The sound of his pants coming undone was lost in the passionate protests that came from Eve when he lifted his weight from her hips.
“It’s all right, gata,” Reno said thickly as he eased himself from the confinement of cloth. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Eve barely heard the words. She knew only that Reno’s weight was settling back on her, but just missing the part of her that ached for the pressure of his body. She twisted against him, wanting more than he was giving her. No matter how she moved, he managed to evade her.
“Reno,” she said raggedly.
“What?” he asked when she said no more.
As he spoke, he raked his teeth lightly over her neck.
Eve had no words to answer him, for she had never felt as she did now, wild for something she couldn’t name.
Reno smiled darkly, for he knew just what she was missing.
“What is it?” he asked again.
Then he listened to the splintering of Eve’s voice as his teeth closed with more force on her smooth skin.
“I can’t…I don’t…” she gasped.
He caught her nipples in his fingers once more and tugged. Her breath came out in a hoarse sound as she arched like a bow. The motion made him settle more deeply onto her legs, yet still not where she wanted him. Her hands clenched in unbearable frustration. She twisted up against him in unknowing demand.
“Open your legs,” he whispered.
As Reno spoke, he moved his hips just enough to brush against Eve’s fire. The caress drew a ragged cry and a rush of heat from her. She shifted, wanting more of the sweet violence he had teased from her.
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