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The door behind Jessica opened, letting in a cold blast of wind.

Wolfe stepped inside. He looked out of place in his city clothes. In the muted light, the silver and gold inlay on the carbine shimmered like water. The effect was like that of a snake’s scales, a warning rather than a lure.

«Morning, boys,» Wolfe said.

A few surprised grunts and sidelong looks answered him. The accent and rhythm of Wolfe’s speech, unlike his clothes, were Western.

With a leisurely glance that was just short of insulting, Wolfe summed up the room. Though his eyes didn’t linger, each of the seven men had the feeling he had been marked for future reference. Only Raleigh didn’t seem to notice the danger in Wolfe’s bleak eyes.

«There’s a mean wind blowing,» Wolfe said casually.

Muttered agreement rippled through the room.

Raleigh dropped his hand to his side and stood relaxed and easy, watching Wolfe. Jessica saw that Raleigh’s riding coat had come open. The right side was pushed out of the way behind the six-gun that he wore on his hip.

«Well, well, take a look at that,» Raleigh said, whistling between his teeth. «That’s some fancy carbine, suh. Never seen its equal.» He held out his hand, confident the well-dressed city man wouldn’t refuse him. «Mind if I try its balance?»

«Yes.»

For a moment, Wolfe’s refusal didn’t register. When it did, a thin flush appeared on Raleigh’s cheekbones.

«You’re not very friendly, suh. Some would even say you’re insulting.»

Wolfe smiled.

Raleigh’s body became less relaxed.

«Just trying to save you some grief,» Wolfe said. «The trigger’s real touchy. Been known to go off for no better reason than being handed from one man to another. That would be a crying shame, too. Handsome young boy like you would surely leave broken hearts all up and down the trail. Be more weeping and wailing over your grave than when Lee turned over his sword at Appomattox.»

Raleigh stiffened. «Are you insulting the South?»

«No, but you are. Any man wearing a lieutenant’s bars on his coat should have better manners than to grab for a lady’s arm.» Without looking away from Raleigh’s angry face, Wolfe said, «Tom, help Cross-Eyed Joe get that fresh team in the traces.»

«Yessir,» the driver said.

He jammed on his hat and hurried out the door, careful not to get between Wolfe and the young man who had fought on the losing side of the War Between the States. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Raleigh’s hand began easing toward the butt of his six-gun.

Jessica’s breath came in with a rush.

«I see him,» Wolfe said before she could speak. He smiled at Raleigh again. «Don’t let all the gold and silver fool you, boy. Repeating weapons like this one shot Southern regiments to red ribbons. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and reach for that belt gun. I’ll have three bullets in you before you know what happened, and I’ll still have ten more left for your friends.»

Behind Raleigh, the men began edging for opposite ends of the table.

«I’ll shoot the next man who moves,» Wolfe said.

No one doubted him. They sat very still.

Jessica forgot to breathe as the silence stretched and stretched, plucking at her nerves more savagely than the wind. Then the young man laughed and relaxed again.

«No point getting riled,» Raleigh said easily. «I was just having some fun to pass the time waiting for the stage.»

«Going east?» Wolfe asked.

«West.»

«Next stage west will be along tomorrow about this time.»

«Tomorrow?» Raleigh said, startled. «What about the one today?»

«It’s full.»

«But only you and the girl —»

«Mywife,» Wolfe interrupted flatly.

«You’re the only ones on the damned stage!»

«Like I said. It’s full.»

Raleigh’s body tightened again.

«It’ll keep, Raleigh,» said one of the other men coldly. «If the gent with the fancy rifle wants to fight the Indians up ahead all by himself, let him. One less Yankee bastard won’t bother me none. I’ve got better game to hunt.»

Raleigh glanced unhappily at the man who had spoken, but didn’t argue.

«Your friend gave you excellent advice,» Wolfe said to Raleigh. «Here’s some more — stay inside until the stage leaves.»

Jessica didn’t wait for Wolfe to open the door for her. She didn’t want him to have to turn his back on the men in the room. Without a word, she opened the door and hurried across the cold yard to the stage. Not until she was inside did she begin to relax.

Wolfe didn’t. Inside the stagecoach, he kept the carbine across his lap and watched the station with predatory attention. No one came out.

Suddenly the driver’s whip cracked like a pistol shot, the horses jerked forward in the traces, and the stage left the station as though the wheels were on fire.

«Will they follow us?» Jessica asked tightly.

«I doubt it. Their horses are played out.» Wolfe looked from the window to the wife he hadn’t asked for, the young woman who set his body on fire, the delicate aristocrat who was utterly unsuited for the Western land he loved as he had never loved anything in his life. «You’re going to get somebody killed, your ladyship. You don’t belong out here.»

«Neither do you.»

«The hell I don’t.»

«Those men took one look at you and knew you for a stranger.»

Wolfe smiled. «No one west of the Mississippi has ever seen me dressed like this, but I was damned if I’d look like your ladyship’s roustabout. Just as well. Jericho Slater was in that bunch at the stage station. If he had recognized me, there would have been hell to pay.»

«Who is Jericho Slater?»

«One of the few surviving members of Jed Slater’s gang.»

«Why does he hate you?»

«Caleb, Reno, and I did our best to kill every one of them.» Wolfe smiled thinly. «Damn near did. My only regret is that Jericho wasn’t with them at the time. He’s as bad as Jed ever was.»

Jessica frowned. «Why were you fighting a gang of men?»

«Slater made the mistake of grabbing Willow.»

The change in Wolfe’s voice and face when he spoke Willow’s name made Jessica’s breath lock in her throat. Suddenly, she had no doubt that Willow was a woman.

«Who is she?»

Jessica’s stark question made Wolfe glance over at her.

«A woman.»

«I gathered as much.»

«A Western woman.»

«Just what does that mean?» Jessica asked tightly.

«A woman strong enough to fight beside her man if it comes to that, and soft enough to set him on fire when the fighting is over. That’s one hell of a woman.»

Jessica forced herself to keep talking, to find out more about the woman who could make Wolfe’s eyes and voice gentle when he spoke about her.

«Is that why you were so angry with me over our marriage?» Jessica asked in a strained voice. «Were you expecting to marry Willow instead?»

«Not likely. I’d have to take on Caleb Black to do that, and only a fool would take on Caleb Black,» Wolfe said dryly. «He’s an Old Testament kind of man. Not much forgiveness in him.»

«Who is Caleb Black?»

«Willow’s husband, and one of the best friends a man could have.»

Wolfe watched with interest the relief that Jessica couldn’t completely hide.

«I see,» Jessica said. She drew a deep breath before she asked the only question that really mattered to her. «Do you love Willow?»

«Be hard not to. She’s everything I ever wanted in a woman.»

Jessica felt herself going pale. Until that moment she hadn’t known how deeply she had been certain that Wolfe was hers, that he had been hers since he had plucked her from the haystack, that he would always be hers.