"I believe you've made your point," Jocelyn said in a small voice.

"Good," he replied with a great deal of satisfac-tion, only to add, "So what the hell are you doing out here?"

"Sir George and I both needed the exercise," she rushed to explain. "He hasn't had a good run since we left Mexico, and besides, it is my habit to ride him for a while each day. In this case, I… I wanted to speak to you, and as it didn't appear that you would be returning before nightfall again, I didn't see the harm. well, I see it now, but I didn't when I decided to join you."

"Get down."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You gave him his run, Duchess, about three miles' worth. Now give him a breather. Christ, don't you know-"

"Don't you dare tell me how to care for my horse!" she snapped, but immediately dismounted and started walking Sir George in a circle around Colt. "You can instruct me in anything else you please, but not about horses, f've bred and raised them all my life, and no one, no one, can tell me a thing about them that I don't already know, and know better."


Colt said nothing to that. The fact that she had a temper surprised him enough to cool down his own. He didn't doubt that she knew horses. Anyone who rode as well as she had to be well acquainted with them.

But to have bred and raised them? That wasn't exactly a typical undertaking for a woman to pursue, at least not a white woman.

She really was proving to be other than what he had thought, in some things anyway. But he didn't mind these particular surprises, for they managed to relieve his mind on one score. If it came down to a chase because she happened to be caught out alone, who the hell could catch her on that horse? And she undoubtedly knew that. He wondered why she hadn't mentioned it when he came down on her so hard.

"Did you breed him?"

She had been stewing silently, and glanced up warily at that question. "Yes."

He dismounted then and stepped in front of her so she would stop. The bay stallion drew back nervously, until Colt stretched his hand out and said something to the animal in a language Jocelyn had never heard before. She stared incredulously as Sir George pushed his nose into that outstretched hand and then shouldered Jocelyn aside to get closer to the man.

"That's amazing!" she gasped. "He's nervous enough around people he knows, but he never lets strangers get near him. You've already made his acquaintance, haven't you?" she added suspiciously.

"No."

"Then how did you— Good Lord! You have the touch, don't you?"

"The touch?"

"The ability to make animals trust you. I have it too, but I've never seen it work quite so quickly before."

It annoyed him that she had discovered a common ground between them when he needed to cling to their differences. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Duchess?"

"Oh, well, you took off this morning before anyone could ask you why you had started us out on the road we traveled yesterday, only to suddenly turn us east."

"You were followed yesterday," was all he said.

"We. how. well! They must not have been very close for no one else to notice, but of course you roamed farther afield—"

"There was only one man," he cut in before she went off on another one of her talking sprees. "He bedded down about a mile back, and returned the way he'd come soon after you rejoined the road to Tuc-son."

"So he'll report we went that way, while we've turned in nearly the opposite direction," she con-cluded with a laugh. "Oh, I knew you would prove invaluable to me, Thunder. I just hadn't realized how much.

Now, don't look at me like that. What did I say?"


"I'm no guide, Duchess, and never professed to be one. Like that mountain lion, I've drifted a hell of a long way from my hunting grounds. I don't even know when we'll run into the next water hole. All I know is that beyond those mountains up ahead is New Mexico and the old Santa Fe Trail that'll lead us to the plains. The plains I know. Between here and there. "he ended with a shrug.

"Good Lord, I thought. are you saying we could get lost?"

"Not lost, but for a while there'll be no roads to make it easy, and I don't guarantee the way between those mountains will be passable for your vehicles."

"Then how did you get here from Wyoming? That is where you came from, isn't it?"

"The way I came down, your coaches definitely couldn't get through. But then I was following Billy down, and he didn't know where the hell he was going."

"You don't appear very worried about it," she pointed out.

"There's always a way. What it comes down to is how much time's wasted finding it. That's Apache country up ahead. There's bound to be well-worn trails."

"And Apaches?"

"You were more likely to have run into them in Mexico. Most of them are settled on reservations, just like every other tribe in the country. The time for you to have worried about Indians, Duchess, was when you met me, not now."

She turned away from the bitterness that had en-tered his voice and moved toward his horse. "Please don't start that again," she told him without looking at him, her attention centered on the big-boned animal that stood docilely while she ran her hand up its neck. "There is nothing you can do that will make me believe you are the uncivilized savage you keep trying to convince me you are."

It was the wrong thing to do, to throw out a chal-lenge like that and not expect him to accept it. But she wasn't used to dealing with men like him. Before she had any warning at all, she was on the ground and he was on top of her, both horses had shied out of the way, and his hand was already yanking her skirt up.

"Nothing, Duchess?" he said in a cold, deter-mined voice. "Let's see how you feel about that after I'm done with you."

She was so stunned she barely heard him, but she felt the sharp tug on her drawers that ripped them open, and then the hard thrust of a finger inside her. "Colt, no, I won't let you—"

"You can't stop me, woman. Hasn't that sunk in yet? You made sure we were alone where the only protection you have is me. So who protects you from me?"

She shoved hard at his shoulders to dislodge him, but he was right, she couldn't stop him. "You're only doing this to frighten me!" And he was succeeding.

"You think it's that many years since I left the life where I took whatever I wanted and killed for the right to do so? Do you know what would happen to you if I had found you then? This — and a helluva lot more. We not only raped white women, we made slaves of them."


She was afraid he wasn't just making a point this time, that he really was going to take her right there in the dirt, with the late afternoon sun broiling down on them. She didn't want it to be like that, and the tears that came to her eyes said as much, but he didn't see them.

It was instinct that made her wrap her arms around his neck as she pleaded, "Please don't hurt me, Colt."

He rolled off her instantly with a vicious curse. Again she was stunned. She hadn't thought it would be that easy to make him stop, but the danger was definitely past. So he had just been trying to frighten her again!

"I ought to have you horsewhipped!" she seethed as she yanked her skirt down and scrambled to her feet. "You can't keep doing this to me, Colt Thunder! I won't allow it!"

He glanced over his shoulder at her from where he sat trying to get his overheated body back under control. "Another damn word out of you and you'll find yourself flat on your back again!"

He might have practically snarled that at her, but she was too angry to take heed. "Is that so, you mis-begotten son of a — a — an Indian!"

He watched her reach his horse, lift her skirt high, and mount it — in the normal way, which hiked her skirt up to her knees. He also watched her pull his rifle out of its scabbard, but still he didn't get to his feet. He didn't know what the hell she thought she was doing, but as long as she didn't point the weapon at him.

"I don't mean for you to become that big cat's dinner, but I do hope you will have cooled off before you join us for ours."

With that she fired off two shots that hit the dust at the lion's feet and sent it racing off into the distance.

The noise also scattered a half-dozen nearby jackrab-bits, grouse, and even a wild turkey that had previ-ously gone unnoticed. Three more shots in quick succession ended the flight of two of the rabbits and the turkey.

Colt was still staring at the third dead animal when her voice cut through his amazement. "It's only when the danger is camouflaged by its surroundings that it proves a danger, Mr. Thunder. Yon might want to gather those up before we reach you. Our cook, Phil-ippe, will appreciate it."

He didn't understand half of those last comments of hers until she took off, which she did with a flurry of scattered dust, and then let loose the shrill whistle that brought up the bay stallion's head and had him galloping after her. But Colt didn't get up even then. He was still incredulous over her marksmanship, which damn near equaled his own — another skill he would never have suspected she might possess — so he wasn't quite dealing yet with her audacity in leaving him stranded.

At least she thought that was what she'd done. He could have called his horse back to him just as easily as she had summoned hers to follow her. But that would have put her within arm's reach of him again, and it had already been proved with a vengeance that he couldn't keep his hands off her when she was that close. Christ, he jumped on any excuse to touch her, even if it was only to frighten her so she wouldn't get close enough again for him to find even more excuses.