"Where have you been?" She set the basket down and began filling it with books.

"I told you I would make a salve."

"You did that already? But where--" She stopped, realizing the truth.

"You went out, didn't you?" He nodded.

"It would have been too difficult to take you."

"That didn't stop you from bringing me here. Are you afraid I might learn my way back out?"

"Only that you might gather the false confidence to try."

"You don't think I could do it?"

"I wasn't issuing a challenge," he said quietly. The wind rushed out of Mary's sails. She bent her head and went back to her task.

"You're welcome to read those if you'd like. There're a few more in the trunk."

"I've already read the nov--" She stopped, knowing she was being churlish.

"Thank you," she said.

"That would pass the time." Ryder set the mortar and pestle he was holding beside the makeshift bed.

"The salve's in there when you want it," he said.

"Use it sparingly. There's enough to last for several days."

Mary nodded. At least there had been no mention that he wanted to apply it himself. She laid the last book in the basket and got to her feet.

"Was it still daylight outside?" she asked.

"Sunset." She'd slept most of the day away, then.

"Was it beautiful?" Ryder had walked over to the cache of foodstuffs and was picking through the cans. He murmured absently in agreement.

Mary sat down in the rocking chair. She raised her legs so that her knees were near her chin and locked her arms around them.

"Tell me about it," she said. Now Ryder glanced in her direction, his dark brows drawn together. He raked back his inky black hair and said slowly, "Red......... threads of copper and orange and bronze." Mary felt his gray eyes in an odd way, as if they were capable of touching her.

"Then it was lovely," she said wistfully.

"Yes." But he hadn't been describing the sunset. Mary's hair was all those colors and a score of shades in between that he had no name for.

"Yes," he repeated.

"Lovely." Mary ducked her head and rubbed her nose as he continued to stare at her. When she looked up again he was studying the cans and the moment had passed.

"Are we going to eat?" she asked.

"I had some jerky, but it wasn't very filling."

"We can't cook," he explained.

"There's nowhere to vent the smoke and if we could--"

"It could be seen," she said.

"It's all right. I understand. Canned anything is fine with me." Mary waited to see how he would open them. He made it look easy as he took up a finely honed knife from the utensils and pounded it sharply into the tops of the cans.

"I suppose there's something to be said for brute strength." Ryder glanced over his shoulder.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Shrugging, he began emptying the cans onto two china plates. There was pressed meat, potatoes, stewed tomatoes, and corn.

He handed her a plate and a fork, and sat in the wing chair, propping his legs on one rung of the stool.

"You're going to be sick of this soon so enjoy it now," he said.

"There's plenty to eat but not much variety.." Mary didn't care. She would have eaten most anything he'd placed in front of her. Bowing her head, she said grace softly. When she looked up, Ryder was watching her. She couldn't make out the expression in his eyes, but she refused to let him know his scrutiny bothered her. Indicating the furnishings with a wave of her hand, Mary asked, "How did all of this come to be here?" The watchfulness of his gaze faded as Ryder tucked into his meal.

"I.

brought it in a little at a time."

"Then you didn't find it here?"

"No."

"So this chamber's a secret even if the cavern isn't." Now he understood what she was getting at.

"That's right. No one else knows about it." Mary considered that. Her situation didn't have to be hopeless, she thought.

Ryder had found a way to this chamber; that meant Jarret had a chance.

He could practically hear her thoughts, her eyes were so expressive.

"I didn't find this chamber entirely on my own," he told her.

"A prospector showed me the way more than fifteen years ago. Joe Panama hid out here after I helped him escape a Chiricahua raiding party." She brightened a little, thinking about that prospector.

"He died years ago," Ryder told her flatly.

"Oh," she said softly, disappointed. Jarret's chances suddenly seemed remote.

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

"That's right. Not until I say so." Mary bent her head and continued eating even though she could no longer taste her food. She was silent, thinking.