Eve positioned her needle and held still. «Ready.»

Reno brought his rod close, then closer, then closer still, brushing the prongs and then the cup of the Y on the end of Eve’s Y.

Ghostly currents rippled.

This time Reno and Eve managed to hold on to the rods, but their breath came in hard and fast. Even that small a motion should have jerked the needles apart.

It didn’t.

«On three,» Reno said.

His voice was unusually deep, a sound like black velvet. The tone was a caress as intangible and undeniable as the subtle currents flowing through the Spanish needles, stitching together two halves of an enigmatic whole.

«Yes,» Eve whispered.

Reno counted. As one, they took a step forward.

The prongs interlocked yet moved readily, as though faintly magnetized.

Deliberately Reno jerked his hand. Instantly the needles came apart.

«Again,» he said.

The needles came to each other as though alive, eager, hungry for the fragile currents that would both join and define them.

«I will be damned,» Reno whispered.

He looked up from the oddly shimmering needles to the woman whose eyes were the color of purest gold.

And he wondered what it would be like to be buried within Eve, feeling her shiver as delicately and as completely as the two rods touching, two halves interlocked, moving freely, joined by currents of fire.

Long before first light, Eve was awake, dressed, and sneaking quietly out of the house. Carrying her saddlebags and bedroll, she headed for the barn. She expected to find Reno already there, getting the horses ready, for she had heard Caleb get up earlier and leave the silent house. A few minutes later she had caught the faint rumble of men’s voices coming from the barn.

Despite the fact that Eve had slept little the night before, she had been too restless to stay in the Blacks’ guest room a moment longer. She had told herself she was simply excited at starting the hunt for gold that had both possessed and eluded generation after generation of the Leon family.

Yet it wasn’t gold that had haunted Eve’s waking dreams. It was the memory of two dowsing rods touching and ghostly currents flowing.

The barn door was open. Just outside, two tall men were working over four horses. A lantern suspended on a nearby corral pole glowed pale gold against the fading darkness of night.

As Eve quietly approached, she could hear Caleb talking.

«…coming down out of the high country. Most of them are too busy moving to winter camp to be a problem, but keep a sharp eye out. The warriors are raising hell with the army, and the shamans are all off looking for a powerful new vision.»

Reno grunted.

«And then there’s the rest of it,» Caleb continued.

«The rest of what?»

«Oh, I just feel that as your friend — and brother-in-law — I should warn you what can happen when a man takes a pretty girl into wild country,» Caleb drawled.

«Save your breath,» Reno said. Then, dryly, «Not you, Darlin’. If you hold your breath, you’re going to find my knee in your belly right quick.»

Eve smiled. She had learned on the trail that Reno’s mustang had a sly way of sucking in a lot of air before the cinch was tightened, then letting it out afterward. If Reno hadn’t been aware of the mare’s little trick, he would have found himself riding upside down half the time.

Leather slid over leather with a rushing sound as Reno drew his mare’s cinch strap up tight. She snorted and stamped her foot in displeasure.

In the stillness of predawn, each sound was unnaturally clear.

«All the same,» Caleb said, «I took a job guiding a pretty girl into the San Juans to find her brother, and I ended up married.»

Leather snapped against leather as Reno tied off the mare’s cinch with smooth, strong motions.

«Willow was one thing,» Reno said finally. «Eve is a horse of an entirely different color.»

«Not that different. Sure, her hair is darker than Willow’s, and her eyes are gold rather than hazel, but —»

«That’s not what I’m talking about,» Reno interrupted curtly.

«You remind me of a mustang stud feeling a rope for the first time in his wild life,» Caleb said.

Amusement rippled plainly in his voice.

Reno grunted.

Laughing aloud, Caleb settled a pack saddle onto a wiry little bay. The bay’s thick mane fell to its shoulders, and the tail was so long it left marks on the dusty ground.

Another bay mustang stood patiently beside the first. The two animals were twins. Because it was hard to tell them apart, they were simply called Shaggy One and Shaggy Two, depending on which horse was closer to the speaker at the time. The geldings were inseparable. Where one went, the other followed.

The second Shaggy was already fully loaded. In addition to the usual trail gear, there were large, empty canteens and two small barrels of black powder tied on either side of the pack saddle.

«Surly as a fresh-caught stud,» Caleb continued cheerfully. «Wolfe was the same way at first. He came around, though. Smart men know when they’ve got something good.»

Reno acted as though he hadn’t heard.

«Take my word for it,» Caleb said, «whatever you think you have now isn’t a candle against the sun to what a good woman will give you.»

Reno smacked his mustang on her warm haunch.

«Stand on your own feet, Darlin’,» he muttered. «Mine have their work cut out as it is.»

«She can cook, too,» Caleb pointed out. «That apple pie was like eating a slice of summer.»

«No,» Reno said curtly.

«Bull. If you didn’t like it, why did you have thirds?»

«Damn it, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.»

«Then what did you mean?» Caleb asked wryly.

Reno swore beneath his breath. He ducked under Darlin’s neck and went to the last horse in line, a dun-colored mare with black socks, black mane and tail, and a black line down her spine.

Now the two men were working so closely they were all but stepping on each other, which made it harder for Reno to pretend that he wasn’t hearing Caleb’s low, casual voice. Working quickly, as though anxious to be on the trail, Reno curried the lineback dun with muscular sweeps of his arm.

Just as Eve thought it would be safe to walk into the lantern’s ring of light, Caleb started speaking again.

«Willow likes Eve. Ethan took to her right away, and he’s cool with strangers.»

Reno froze with the brush just above the dun’s barrel. The mare snorted and nudged him, wanting more of the currying.

«She’s bright and she’s spirited,» Caleb said. He laughed softly. «She’ll be a real handful, and that’s a fact.»

«The dun? Maybe I better use her as a packhorse and give one of the Shaggies to Eve to ride.»

Caleb’s grin flashed. «She’d run rings around most men, but she’s a good match for you.»

«I like Darlin’ better.»

Caleb chuckled. «I thought my two horses were my best friends. Then Willow taught me that —»

«Eve isn’t like Willow,» Reno interrupted, his voice cold.

«That’s it, boy. You just keep on fighting that silk rope.»

Reno said something brutal under his breath.

«Fighting won’t do you any good,» Caleb said, «but no man worth his salt ever gives up without a fight.»

With a hissed curse, Reno turned and faced Caleb.

«I should be whipped for bringing Eve into my sister’s house,» Reno said flatly.

A chill settled over Eve. She knew what Reno would be saying next. She didn’t want to hear it.

But even more, she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping, no matter how innocently. She began retreating one slow step at a time, praying that she would make no sound to give her away.

«You asked me how I met Eve, and I ducked the question,» Reno said. «Well, I’m through ducking.»