«Change into your riding clothes while I see to the rest of the preparations,» Wolfe said.

He turned away, paused, then came back and jerked the fur cover from beneath the heaped dresses. When he looked up, Jessica was watching him with curious, wary eyes.

«We might have to sleep in snow,» Wolfe said curtly. «If you put this inside your sleeping bag, you should stay warm enough.»

Jessica blinked, surprised by Wolfe’s thoughtfulness when he was so obviously out of sorts with her. «Thank you.»

«You need not look so shocked, your ladyship. I want an annulment, not a funeral.»

She stared at Wolfe’s broad, retreating back and let out a long breath she hadn’t even been aware of holding. Frowning, she reached around behind her back to undo the infuriating buttons. There were less of them than on her travel dress, yet the fastenings were still too many and too inconveniently placed for a woman dressing alone. She thought of calling upon Wolfe for help, but discarded the idea instantly. Though she knew little about men and lust, she had gathered that the less clothes a woman had on, the hotter a man’s blood ran and the more angry he became if rutting was denied him.

Memories of the past night raced through Jessica, making her tremble with more than fear. The pleasure Wolfe had given her was unique, exquisite. If rutting gave him a similar pleasure, it was no wonder he was so angry at being denied. Living with him, forcing him to breathe the very air she breathed, was unfair. She hadn’t known that before, but she knew it now.

We can’t spend a lifetime like this.

Then Jessica thought of what the alternative was if she agreed to an annulment and returned to England and Lady Victoria’s well-meant, relentless attempts to marry off her ward to whatever minor lord was old enough, wealthy enough, and eager enough for children to overlook Jessica’s common Scots mother.

The thought of enduring such a marriage brought to Jessica a chill determination to be free that no amount of reason or coercion would change. Wolfe may have preferred an annulment to a funeral, but Jessica did not.

There were worse things than death. She was as certain of that as she was of her own heartbeat. She visited those things in her sleep, where forbidden memories and horrible nightmares intertwined, and the inhuman voice of the wind promised her hell on earth.

With a small sound, Jessica put her face in her hands. «Dear God,» she whispered, «let Wolfe relent, for I cannot.»

Uncertainly, Jessica stood in front of one of themercantile’s many counters. She was accustomed to having bolts of cloth and seamstresses brought to Lord Stewart’s home, or perhaps she would visit an especially popular dress designer in her shop. The idea of buying clothes already made both intrigued Jessica for its speedy practicality and baffled her as to how to go about it.

«Mrs.Lonetree? Is that you?»

The deep, gentle drawl told Jessica who the man was before she turned around. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of the big blond man with his hat in his hands and a smile on his face.

«Rafe! What a wonderful surprise. What are you doing in Canyon City? Is your arm all right?»

He flexed his left shoulder. «It’s a bit stiff and itches like the very devil, but otherwise everything is fine. I’ve never healed so fast. Must have been your hands and the fancy silk bandage.»

«And soap.»

«And soap,» Rafe agreed with a wink.

«What are you doing in Canyon City?» Jessica asked again without thinking. Then she remembered. «Oh dear, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. It’s the one thing Betsy didn’t tell me about the United States.»

Rafe’ssun-bleached eyebrows lifted. «Betsy?»

«My American maid. At least she was, until we got to the Mississippi. She taught me many of your customs, but not the most important Western one.»

«Maybe you’d better tell me about that one. I’m new to the West.»

Jessica gave a sigh of relief. «Oh, good, then I didn’t insult you by asking you why you’re here. Wolfe was quite clear about that. One never asks a Western man for a full name, an occupation, or a reason for coming or going as he pleases.»

«Australia is like that, too,» Rafe said, smiling, «so is a lot of South America.»

«England isn’t, except for certain people, of course.»

«Criminals?» he asked blandly.

«Oh, dear, Idid insult you.»

Rafe’slaughter was instant and unrestrained. «No, ma’am, but you’re a delight to tease.»

If another man had said it, Jessica would have withdrawn with the cool hauteur that had been taught her by Lady Victoria. It was impossible to do that withRafe, however, and unnecessary as well. His eyes were admiring without being in the least impolite.

«I don’t mind talking about what I’m doing here,» Rafe said. «I was waiting for the pass to open again. I got here just before the last storm closed it.»

«Then you’ve been here long enough to see the town. Wolfe said we wouldn’t be staying long.»

«Smart man, your husband. Too many drifters are holed up here, gambling and waiting for the passes to open.»

«If what Wolfe says is true, they won’t have long to wait.»

«Folks tell me WolfeLonetree knows the mountains between here and the San Juan country like the back of his hand,» Rafe said.

«It wouldn’t surprise me. Wolfe has always loved wild places. From what I’ve heard, the mountains out there are about as wild as anything on earth.»

For a momentRafe looked through themercantile’s dusty windows, but it was other mountains he saw, other wild places. Then his gray eyes focused and he turned back to the delicate girl whose light blue eyes held more shadows that they should.

«Are you here for supplies?» Rafe asked.

«After a fashion. Wolfe is buying something he calls ‘Montana horses.’ They’re large, I gather. Big enough to stand up to the snow drifts we might find in the passes.»

Rafe’sgray eyes widened, then narrowed with concern. «What lies west of here has the look of hard country, Mrs.Lonetree. Too hard for a girl like you.»

«Have you ever been to Scotland?» Jessica asked rather grimly.

He shook his head.

«Go there sometime in the winter,» she said, «when the gale winds scream down from the Arctic Circle. Then you’ll see waves higher than a mounted man break against black rock cliffs that are wrapped in ice. That’s when sheep with wool thicker than your arm freeze upright in the lee of solid stone fences. Men freeze much more quickly.»

«You were born there,» Rafe said, for there was no mistaking the dark memories drawing Jessica’s face taut.

«Yes.»

«Even so, ma’am, you’re looking hard used at the moment. I hope your husband’s wrong about the passes opening soon. You could use a few nights of sleep.»

Jessica smiled reassuringly, though she knew she would sleep no better in the coming night than she had any night since the terrible argument with Wolfe.

He had not relented one bit. No matter how hard she tried to be a good companion, he still treated her as an enemy, or worse, as a traitor who had betrayed him.

«My husband assures me the passes are open,» Jessica said.

«Has he talked to one of the gold hunters?»

«No. He watched the peaks all the way from his — our — home. When the new snow melted back up the slopes so quickly, he said the pass would be open by the time we were ready to leave Canyon City.»

«He’s certain?»

Jessica slantedRafe an odd glance. «You met Wolfe. Did he strike you as an indecisive sort?» Shaking his head, Rafe laughed, remembering the uncanny precision of Wolfe’s rifle work, men falling like dropped cards, one after another, with no break in the relentless rhythm of Wolfe’s shots.

«No, ma’am. That’s one hard man you married.»