"He's had a hard life. It gets in his way sometimes, and he can't always see himself clearly."

"But you do see him for what he is?"

"Oh, yes, I've always known."

"And what is he?"

"A giant," he said simply.

"What?"

"He's one of the heroes of the world. I've always believed the world is gifted with a small number of heroes in every generation. Men who are capable of tremendous acts of self-sacrifice. Men who have the strength and boldness to take life by the horns and conquer it. Ruel is a hero. But he refuses to accept his fate."

She chuckled. "And are you also a hero?"

"Oh, no, I'm very boring. I just plod along, doing my duty and trying to live a good life."

"I don't believe that's boring," she said gently.

"You're very kind." He grimaced. "But I'm a dull fellow. It's a wonder Margaret even looked at me."

"Margaret?"

"Margaret MacDonald. We're affianced."

"Then she's very fortunate."

"I'm the one who is fortunate." His smile made his homely face almost handsome. "As you'd know if you met her. She's a remarkable lass. I told Ruel you reminded me a little of my Margaret."

"Me?" She looked at him in astonishment before shaking her head. "No, I couldn't be like her."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not . . ." She waved a hand at the station house. "Because you're a lord and she's probably like them."

"In what way?"

"I don't know." She thought about it. "Gowns with bustles and lace at her throat . . . soft hands. She wouldn't like me. I'm different."

He burst out laughing. "That's not Margaret. And God made us all different. You mustn't be ashamed of what you are."

"I'm not ashamed." She could see he didn't understand. "I'm proud of what I am. None of those women could do what I do and not many men either. It's just wiser not to force myself in where I'm not wanted."

"Because you meet cruelty and intolerance when you do?" he asked quietly.

She nodded jerkily. "And your Margaret would be the same."

"You're wrong. Ask Ruel. Ruel was always considered an outcast, and she never treated him with anything but fairness."

"Why was Ruel—" No, she didn't want to know any more about Ruel than she did already. She had spent an uneasy night after he had left her yesterday evening, and he was occupying far too much of her thoughts. She smiled with an effort. "Then I must be wrong and your Margaret everything you say she is." They had arrived at the supply yard and she pulled out her key ring. "Thank you for accompanying me. I won't keep you any longer. I know you want to get back to the other guests."

"It was my pleasure. I find your 'difference' far more interesting than their 'sameness.' "

Warmth surged through her as she realized there was no mockery in his tone. He was not like Ruel, whose every word must be examined and weighed for hidden meaning. "You have unusual tastes." She unlocked the gate. "I'm sure you—"

"Do you always keep your supply yard locked?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked curiously. "I wouldn't think anyone would dare steal anything from a project for the maharajah."

She quickly glanced away. "I suppose I became accustomed to guarding our supplies in England."

"I see." He bowed slightly. "Well, I'm sure you do it very well. Margaret believes in guarding her own too."

She gave him a tentative smile as she opened the gate and strode swiftly into the supply yard.

"You're right, she doesn't lie well," Ian said slowly.

Ruel shot him a glance as he turned away from the washstand. "Something happened today at the station?"

"Not exactly."

"Ian."

"She feels very much alone, you know."

"We're all alone."

"She thinks she's different from other women."

"She is different."

"No ... I believe she's been hurt a good deal."

"Are you going to tell me what happened today?"

Ian didn't answer for a moment, and then said reluctantly, "The supply yard. She keeps it locked at all times and I don't think it's because of thieves."

"You think Kartauk—"

"I didn't say that. She just seemed uncomfortable when I mentioned her locking the gate." He grimaced. "I didn't want to tell you. I feel as if I've betrayed her."

Ruel frowned thoughtfully. "Kartauk can't be there. It would be taking too much risk when rails have to be moved from the yard to the site every few days."

"Good," Ian said, relieved. "Then I must be wrong."

"Perhaps. Watch the yard for a few evenings to make sure."

"I'm not comfortable with this, Ruel."

"I know." Ruel smiled. "You're afraid your soul is going to be damned to perdition."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt the lass."

Ruel's smile faded. "We're not going to hurt her, only find Kartauk."

"It may be the same thing."

He stripped off his shirt. "Get out of here. I have to get some sleep."

Ian rose to his feet with a sigh. "I'll watch the yard, but I hope I'm wrong." He moved toward the door. "And I believe you do too."

"The hell I do."

Ian smiled and left the room.

Ruel muttered a curse as he stared at the closed door. He wouldn't give up searching for Kartauk because of some idiotic twinges of conscience, nor would it stop him from taking what he wanted from Jane. Christ, if he'd had any sense, he would have eased this blasted lust in the railway car yesterday. He couldn't go on like this much longer, heavy and hurting whenever he was with her.

Why the hell shouldn't he take what he wanted? He was no saint like Ian. Dammit, he was through waiting and biding his time.

"Where are the rails?" Jane demanded of Patrick when he walked into the bungalow that evening.

"I think the maharajah was pleased, don't you?" Patrick strolled over to the cabinet and poured himself a drink. "He was preening like a peacock over those brass lanterns."

"The rails were supposed to be delivered with the locomotive. Where are they?"

"I had to delay the shipment until I could arrange another loan from the bank." He took a long drink "God, it was hot out there in the sun."

"I need those rails."

"And we'll get them. In three days. I took care of everything."

"I thought you told me the bank wouldn't give us any more credit."

He scowled. "I told you, I took care of it. Now, go see if that lazy Sula's bothered to make us any dinner."

He wanted to put an end to her questions, but she couldn't permit it this time. "We'll be at Lanpur Gorge in a week. I'll need those rails."

"You'll have them." He dropped down on the easy chair and closed his eyes. "Trust me."

She had no choice. She would have to trust him, she realized with frustration. "I'll tell Sula we're ready to eat."

She turned and walked away from him. God in heaven, sometimes she didn't think she could go on. She was weary of fighting these constant battles with Patrick and the maharajah, and now Ruel MacClaren had appeared on the scene to disturb and perplex her. She quickly shied away from the thought of Ruel. She had enough problems without remembering the expression on his face as he had looked up at that blasted painting.