Eve’s eyes widened. She looked at the line that ran the length of the canyon well above their heads. Then she looked back at Reno.

«Where does it all come from?» she asked.

«Up on the plateau. During big storms, rain comes down faster than it can sink in. And in some places, it can’t sink in at all. So it just runs off all at once. In these slot canyons, it gets real deep real fast.»

«What a country,» Eve said. «Eat sand or drown.»

The corner of Reno’s mouth lifted slightly. «I’ve come close to both, one time or another.»

Yet he had never had his tail in quite as tight a crack as he did right now — a dead end ahead, outlaws behind, and thirst in between.

Silently Reno examined the walls of the side canyon where he and Eve were trapped. Something about the rock layers nagged at his mind.

«Pull up,» he said to Eve.

She reined in and looked over her shoulder. Reno was sitting with both hands on the saddle horn, studying the narrow little canyon as though he had never seen anything quite so interesting in his life.

After a minute Reno urged the blue roan forward, squeezed past the two Shaggies and Eve’s dun to the tiny slot canyon he had discovered on his first reconnoiter up the canyon. He had dismissed the slot as a runoff channel. But now he thought he might have been too hasty.

«Is your shotgun loaded?» Reno asked.

«Yes.»

«Ever used a six-gun?» he asked.

«Sometimes. I can’t hit the side of the barn with one at much over thirty feet.»

Reno turned and looked at Eve. The smile he gave her made her realize all over again what a good-looking man he was.

«Don’t worry, gata. No barns will be sneaking up on us.»

Eve laughed.

Reno pulled out his second six-gun and removed one bullet from the revolving cylinder before he put the weapon back in the bandolier.

«Here,» he said, handing the bandolier to Eve. «The firing pin is on an empty chamber, so you’ll have to pull the trigger twice to fire.»

The bandolier fit Eve the way a greatcoat fits a child. When Reno reached forward to adjust the buckle, the back of his fingers accidentally brushed over one of her breasts. Her breath came in hard and fast. The sudden motion had the effect of brushing her breast against his hand once more. The twin touches hardened her nipple in a rush.

Reno looked up from her breast to the vivid golden eyes of the saloon girl who haunted even his dreams.

«You’re so damned alive,» Reno said almost roughly. «And you came so damned dose to dying. …»

He adjusted the bandolier as much as possible on her. Telling himself he wouldn’t, reaching for her even as he told himself not to, Reno slid his hand around the nape of Eve’s neck. He pulled her toward him as he leaned down.

«I’m going to check out that slot canyon,» he said against her lips. «Keep an eye on the back trail while I’m gone.»

«Be careful.»

«Don’t worry. I plan to live long enough to enjoy every last bit of what I won in the Gold Dust Saloon — and that includes you.»

The kiss Reno gave Eve was like lightning, hot and untamed, striking to her core, lasting only an instant.

Then Reno was gone, leaving her with his taste on her lips, his hunger racing in her blood, and his words shivering through her, warning and promise in one.

I plan to live long enough to enjoy every last bit of what I won in the Gold Dust Saloon — and that includes you.

12

A few hours later, Eve, Reno, and the horses were still scrambling up layer after layer of stone, following a precarious way out of the blind canyon. Many times the passage threatened to vanish against one cliff or another, stranding them, but it never did.

Not quite.

«Don’t look down.»

Reno’s order was unnecessary. Eve wouldn’t have looked down if someone had held a gun at her head. In fact, she might have considered being shot a blessing, if it meant that she would never again have to lead a mustang along an eyebrow trail high above the canyon floor.

«Are you sure you’re all right?» Reno asked.

Eve didn’t answer. She didn’t have any energy to spare for words. She was too busy staring at her feet, willing herself not to stumble.

The coarse grain of the sandstone was engraved on Eve’s mind. She was certain the texture of it would inhabit her nightmares for years to come. Pebbles the size and shape of marbles were scattered all over the surface of the ledge, ready to send a careless foot sliding and skidding.

The mustangs had little difficulty with the trail. They had four feet. If one slipped, there were three to take its place. Eve had nothing but her hands, which were already sore from catching herself the last time she had tripped.

«See the white rock ahead?» Reno asked encouragingly. «That means we’re getting closer to the lip of the plateau.»

«Hallelujah,» Eve whispered.

The lineback dun snorted and jerked her head down to rub off a pesky fly.

Eve barely stifled a scream as the reins yanked at her hand, threatening her precarious balance.

«It’s all right,» Reno said in a low, calm voice.

The hell it is.

But Eve didn’t have the breath to waste on contradicting Reno aloud.

«That was just a fly bothering your horse,» he said. «Put the reins over her neck. She’ll follow you without being led.»

A jerky nod was the only answer Reno got.

When Eve lifted the tied reins over the mustang’s neck, her arms were trembling so much that she nearly dropped the reins.

Reno’s hands balled into fists. Ruthlessly he forced himself to relax one finger at a time. If he could have walked the trail for Eve, he would have. But he could not.

Bleakly Reno resumed the climb. Eons of rain and wind had rounded the rock and worn nearly perpendicular channels through it. The higher he climbed, the deeper and steeper became the many channels cutting across the pale, smooth surface of the stone. Sometimes he had to double-back and find a way around a particularly wide channel.

Reno scrambled up and onto another slickrock terrace. The blue roan was hard on his heels, as surefooted as a cat. The other mustangs were equally agile. He walked forward quickly, anxious to meet and overcome the next obstacle.

He didn’t notice that Eve had sent her mustang on ahead at the first wide spot in the trail. He was intent on the next scramble and then the next. Until he climbed the last pale slickrock terrace and saw a mesa top opening before him, he wouldn’t know whether they had struggled upward all this way only to reach a dead end at the foot of a cliff. He was impatient to find out, for he didn’t want to retrace his steps in failing light.

Eve kept her eyes on the small marks the horses’ hooves had left on the stone. Each time she came to one of the hundreds of runoff channels that criss-crossed the massive layer of white rock, she took her courage in both hands and stepped across, ignoring the black abyss beneath her feet.

She no longer looked to the right or to the left or even straight ahead. She definitely didn’t look behind. Each time she looked over the back trail, her skin tightened at the sight of layer after layer of rock dropping steeply into a blue haze. She couldn’t believe she had climbed that far. She couldn’t believe she had to keep on climbing.

Breathing hard, Eve stopped to rest, hoping some strength would flow back into her weary legs. She would have given a great deal for a drink of water, but she had left the heavy, awkward canteen tied to the dun’s saddle.

Sighing, she rubbed her hands over her aching thighs and scrambled up onto the next terrace to see what awaited her. Just a few feet away, the rock sloped to another runoff channel. This one was shaped rather like a funnel with the far side cut away. There was a steep descent to a small ledge. From there the channel sliced endlessly down through the white rock, dividing it into separate masses.

Reno and the horses were on the other side.

«It’s no more than a yard wide,» Eve told herself through stiff lips. «I can step across it.»

It’s more than a yard. I’ll have to jump.

«I jumped farther than that across the creek just for fun.»

It didn’t matter if I fell in the creek. If I fall now…

The weakness in Eve’s knees frightened her. She was thirsty, exhausted, and nervous from spending hours expecting to slip and fall with every step. And now this black canyon to cross.

She couldn’t do it. She simply could not.

Stop it, Eve told herself harshly. I’ve done harder things the last few hours. The crack is only a few feet wide. All I have to do is give a little jump and I’ll be on the other side.

Repeating it made her feel better, especially as her eyes were closed. It would have helped if she could have seen Reno or the horses on the other side, but she couldn’t. From where she was, she could see nothing but the steep slope at her back and the chasm ahead.

Eve ran her dry tongue over her equally dry lips. She was tempted to walk back a hundred yards and drink out of one of the many, odd hollows in the solid stone where water lingered from a recent rain. The hollows held anywhere from a cup to several gallons of water.

In the end, Eve decided not to go back, because she didn’t want to walk one more yard than was absolutely necessary. Besides, the hollows were alive with tiny swimming creatures.

Eve took a deep breath and approached the black opening that lay between her and the horses. From the marks she could see on the rock, the mustangs had sat on their hocks, skidded down to the ledge, and then stepped or jumped to the other side of the channel. There was no slope to scramble up on the far side. She could fall flat when she landed and it wouldn’t matter.