"And that's finished?"

"The track across Sikor Gorge has been completed, but we've got another seven miles before we come to the bridge across Lanpur Gorge."

A silence fell between them that lasted until they were a few miles outside the town following the railroad track toward Sikor Gorge.

"What's a running patterer?" Jane asked suddenly. At Ruel's blank look she added, "You said you became one because you weren't good as an acrobat."

"Oh, a running patterer is a street seller who peddles stories. He stands on the street corner and tries to make the stories in the papers he's selling more exciting than the ones the other running patterers are hawking."

"And you were good at that?"

"Not at first, but I learned fast. An empty belly can lend the melody of a nightingale to the voice of a crow."

"Why were you hungry if your brother is an earl?"

His expression became shuttered. "Because I'm not Ian."

Clearly questions on this particular subject were not welcome. "What other work did you do in London?"

"Rat catching." He glanced slyly at her from under his lashes. "Shall I describe my adventures in the sewers?"

She made a face. "That won't be necessary. I had no idea such things went on in London. Not that I know much about it. I was there only a few days before we went to Salisbury, and it seemed a crowded, confusing place."

"Aye, it's that all right. You must just sort out the confusion and make it your own. So you never went back to London?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"There was the railroad to build."

"Apparently there's always a railroad to build."

"Yes," she said simply. "Always."

"Some people would say it's no task for a woman."

She bristled. "Then some people would be fools. Why not? Because I don't have huge, bulging muscles? It takes more than physical strength. It takes care and measuring and knowing when to blow through a mountain and when to go around. It takes making sure every tie and rail is laid safely and well. I can do that as well as a man. Better."

"Easy. I'm not arguing with you." He paused. "And who taught you to do it better?"

"I taught myself. When we got to Salisbury I followed Patrick everywhere and listened and learned."

"And where did you live before you came to Salisbury?"

"Utah." She quickly changed the subject. "The gorge is just around the bend." She reined in and gestured to the bluff ahead. "We'll have to dismount and walk across the ties from here."

"If you can walk without falling down on your face. You're still paler than a tombstone."

"I won't fall down. I told you I was quite well this morning." She got down from the mare. "If you don't think about discomfort, it goes away." She could feel his gaze on her as she unsaddled Bedelia and tied her to a banyan tree in a grove a few yards from the track.

"No, you won't fall down." An odd note in his voice made her glance over her shoulder at him, but his expression was as mocking as ever. "Tell me, does Reilly appreciate what he has in you?"

"Of course."

"But not enough to let you keep a dog you care about in the bungalow?"

"Patrick thinks animals are good only if they perform a function." She rushed defensively on. "Lots of people feel that way about keeping pets. I bet you've never had a pet yourself."

"You'd lose. I did have a pet once."

She looked at him in surprise. "A dog?"

"A fox."

"What a peculiar pet."

He shrugged. "I was a peculiar lad."

"What was his name?"

"I never gave him one."

"Why not?"

"He was my friend. It would have been an imposition. Besides, I had only him. There was no question of getting confused."

"Strange . . ." She started down the track crossing the gorge. "I have an entire crew to protect me a half mile from here. You don't have to come any farther with me."

"Stop trying to get rid of me." He dismounted, unsaddled his horse, and tied him to a tree a short distance away. "There are other threats than Abdar. What if you fell off the bridge?" He glanced down at the narrow yellow-brown ribbon of water trickling through the gorge as he followed over the railway ties. "Well, maybe you wouldn't drown, but the fall could hurt you. Besides, why should I leave? Now that I'm here, I might as well learn a new skill."

"There's no skill needed in laying track," she said dryly. "You only have to have a strong back."

"Oh, I've got a strong back."

A sudden memory of Ruel lying naked on the bed, all sleek tendons and power, came back to her. "I don't doubt it," she muttered.

"Then I assume I'm hired?"

"What about your wound? You have no business working with a hurt shoulder."

"That's what I tried to tell you," he murmured. "The pot calling the kettle? My shoulder's almost healed. I keep the bandage on only because Ian insists."

She met his gaze. "Why are you doing this?"

"You don't believe I want only to keep a benevolent eye on you?"

She frowned, trying to puzzle' out his motives. "You're not like your brother."

"I'm cut to the marrow. I must get Ian to have a talk with you. He believes I have a noble soul."

"I don't know anything about souls, but I know you're not what you seem."

"Very perceptive. But then, few of us are what we appear to be. Actually, I'm more honest than most when it doesn't hurt me too grievously." He added softly, "And I do pay my debts, Jane."

"But that's not the only reason you're here, is it?"

For an instant the mockery disappeared from his expression. "No, that's not the only reason, but I have no intention of sharing the others with you. You'll have to take me as you find me."

And she found him a disturbing, glittering enigma. "I don't have to take you at all."

"But you will, won't you," he said, looking steadily into her eyes.

She should reject him. He didn't belong here and she didn't need the distraction of his presence. Yet she was curiously reluctant to say the words that would banish him. In some mysterious fashion he had lent a shimmer and color to the last hours that she had never known before. Perhaps it would do no harm to let him linger for a little longer. "Working in this heat is no pleasure. One day should be enough to make you give it up."

"Oh, no." He smiled. "I never give up a job until something more interesting presents itself."

Chapter 4

He didn't give up.

The only reason her gaze was drawn to him so constantly during the day, Jane assured herself, was her concern for his hurt shoulder. But the wound didn't seem to hamper him, for with every blow of the hammer the muscles of his back and abdomen slid as smoothly as the gears of a locomotive. The rhythmic force with which he struck each wedge-shaped spike sank it deep and true. At the end of the day he was still swinging the huge hammer with the same strength and determination he exhibited when he had started ten hours before.

"You can stop now." She walked over to him. "Didn't you hear Robinson call a halt? The others left five minutes ago."