, Colt waited there until the Apache had rejoined his companions and they had all ridden away. He then mounted up and returned to the coaches, annoyed to see the duchess still outside hers. When he stopped by her, her eyes seemed anxious as they roved over his body, looking for signs of blood. She also seemed relieved to find none, and that annoyed him even more. He didn't want this woman worrying about him. Her concern worked like talons against his heartstrings, making him feel. Christ, just more frustration because he could never have her.

"I'm glad you didn't kill him." She smiled up at him.

Her smile brought out his worst frown. "Are you? Were he Cheyenne, I would've had to, for my people would rather die than face the disgrace of defeat. But Apache customs differ in many ways from mine.

They prefer to live to fight another day, so I've allowed him that."

That got rid of her smile. "And if that other day brings him back to try for Sir George again?"

"It won't. I told him the stallion was mine. That being the case, as he saw it, his only chance to gain him was to kill me, which he failed to do."

"You mean you… he… Sir George would have…" She gritted her teeth for a second in ex-treme agitation, completely forgetting her soaring relief of a moment ago that he was alive and unhurt. "What, pray tell, would have happened if you had lost?"

Colt infuriated her even more by grinning before drawling, "That wouldn't have been my problem, Duchess, now would it?"

Chapter Nineteen

Vanessa gave a weary sigh as she watched Jocelyn through the coach window, stirring up a great cloud of dust as she exercised Sir George. She didn't ride the stallion far anymore, not since that encounter with the Apaches, which Vanessa was still grateful she only had to hear about instead of witness. Against a vivid blue sky the duchess made a splendid picture, despite the drab landscape surrounding her.

It was getting depressing, that drab landscape, though Jocelyn seemed not to mind in the least. At one point. lavender mountains had surrounded them on every ho-rizon, but so far in the distance they seemed unreacha-ble. More than anything else had been the endless stretches of flat, parched land, cracked in more places than not, the only green an occasional cactus, everything else, from scrub brush to patches of wilted grass, all washed silver by the blazing sun.

Did it never rain in this part of the world? Since they had left that violence-invested town of Tomb-stone — so aptly named, that — there had been nary a drop. And only one little watercourse in all that time, San Simon creek, which was a mere trickle so late in the year, and muddy, that even baths had been out of the question. If they didn't carry their own water barrels, they would have been in quite a pickle.

Vanessa didn't complain, however, not in the least, not since that night she had done so deliberately, just to point out their guide's orneriness. And to be truth-ful, she wouldn't have wanted to miss seeing this part of the country, for it might be drab and tedious and eternally dusty during the daytime, but twice a day, at dawn and sunset, the most magnificent bursts of color appeared. Sometimes the sky seemed to be wreathed in flames, the reds and yellows were so glo-riously vivid. And then the moon would rise in such huge grandeur, you felt you could almost reach out and touch it. With such a monstrously large glowing sphere hanging over the horizon, the sky refused to blacken into true night, and campfires were needed only for cooking and warmth.

Jocelyn never failed to be outside to watch these spectacular entertainments from above at the end of each day, but at the same time she would surrepti-tiously be scanning the camp, hoping for Colt Thun-der to appear. He never did. He was still making himself extremely scarce to everyone except his brother, to whom he would give the general directions for each day's travel.

It annoyed Vanessa no end to see Jocelyn's disap-pointment at the close of a day when she hadn't seen the guide, even from a distance. But what had started some genuine alarm was hearing Jocelyn describe the encounter with the Apaches, and sensing the underlying emotions she had experienced in the watching, especially when she retold how close Colt had come to dy-ing. The girl had gone from facing a dilemma to having Colt solve it, to horror at the way he solved it, to anguish at the thought of his death, to overwhelming relief that he survived, ending with total vexation with the man that unfortunately didn't last long.

It was the worry and concern for this American half-savage that alarmed Vanessa. Those were feelings that led too easily to love, and although Jocelyn hadn't realized that yet, Vanessa did. Such a happen-stance was not to be considered. But it hadn't hap-pened yet; at least Vanessa prayed it hadn't.

And since Jocelyn was still determined to have the fellow, the only way to assure that love didn't enter into it was to get the deflowering over with as soon as possible and Colt Thunder sent on his way.

But there was a very big obstacle to seeing that accomplished, besides the fact that Thunder was rarely around. Simply put, he was the only guide they had, and until they came to some sort of civilization where he could be replaced, they were stuck with him.

As it happened, however, the rough terrain they had been crossing at such a brisk speed had played havoc with the vehicles, as well as with the animals, and a blacksmith's services were seriously in need.


There was enough work to hold them up for at least several days. Their guide could no longer steer them around towns, if there had even been any to steer around in all this time.

"I'll say one thing for him," Vanessa remarked as they rolled into Silver City late the next morning. "At least it's not a one-street town with a four-room hotel he's brought us to for repairs. brought grudgingly, I might add."

Jocelyn didn't turn from the window where she was viewing this newest Western town with interest.

"You know he's right about avoiding towns, Vana."

"I suppose," the countess allowed, but she was still chagrined over the fact that they had entered New Mexico several days ago and hadn't known it. "It would have been nice if he had deigned to inform us of the progress we had made in crossing into a new territory. Do you suppose he'll inform us when we reach Wyoming?"

Jocelyn turned with a grin on hearing one of Vanessa's driest tones. "As a guide he's done very well, hasn't he, especially since he never professed to be a guide? We've gotten this far without mishap. And need I add that he wasn't hired to give us a tour of the countryside?"

"Speaking of why he was hired, I think you ought to take advantage of our delay here and see the thing accomplished. A room to yourself should help, and you can use any pretext to get him alone in it. After that, one thing should lead to another, and—"

"You're forgetting one minor little point," Jocelyn interrupted, no longer grinning. "He doesn't like me."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that, my dear."

"I would. He's gone out of his way to prove it. Nor does he find me even a little bit attractive."

Vanessa almost snorted. She settled for "Bosh. Has it occurred to you yet, my girl, that he might be tempted but feel he doesn't dare bestow his amorous attentions on someone of your importance?"

"He's not an Englishman, or even a European who would notice class differences, Vana. Didn't his brother give Sir Dudley a dressing-down about the importance Americans place on equality?"

"Indeed he did, but we're talking about an American of a different breed here, one who snubbed you in public to protect your own reputation, or had you forgotten that? And 'importance,' I will allow, was the wrong word to use. What I meant was someone of your. color."

"Because I'm what he calls a white woman?" Jocelyn gasped with belated understanding. "Good Lord, do you think that's all it is?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. At the very least, it might explain why he's gone to such trouble to, shall we say, frighten you into keeping your distance from him."

"But. how do I get around that?"

"A good question. He's already been informed that his half-breed status means nothing to you, so either he is prejudiced himself, but in the reverse, which I sincerely doubt, or he has misinterpreted all your sig-nals for the simple reason that he doesn't believe you could actually desire someone like him."


"I don't like either of those possibilities, Vana," Jocelyn said stiffly in Colt's defense.

"But the second one does seem the most likely."

"I can't believe that he would have such a low opinion of himself.", "My dear, you can't imagine what his life has been like, or what circumstances have formed that life to make him how he is today. So let us just suppose for a minute that I am right. If he still isn't aware that you desire him, the thing to do is make him aware of it."

"I shall simply tell him."

"No — you — will — not!" Vanessa replied with appalled vehemence. "Where in the world did you get the idea that my suppositions are infallible? I will not have you suffering the most horrid embarrassment should I be wrong. On the other hand… it wouldn't hurt if you were a teeny bit more blatant in the matter of this seduction."

"A teeny bit?"

Vanessa smiled conspiratorially. "One of your French negligees when you receive him alone in your room, perhaps? That ought to take care of the matter most quickly."

"And get me raped most foully," Jocelyn retorted.