Mary flew to her sister's side and embraced her.

"Of course you do. Dear, dear Rennie, how will we ever thank you?" She looked to Jarret over Rennie's shoulder and held out her hand for him to take.

"And you," she said, squeezing his hand gently.

"You've done so much. There's no repayment ever that will be-" Jarret shook his head.

"Finish this business in Washington," he said.

"And invite all of us to your next wedding." His glance at Ryder was significant.

"There'll be hell to pay otherwise."

Ryder nodded once, acknowledging the point. it was clear Mary's family thought she deserved a more conventional ceremony.

"If she'll have me," he said quietly. Rennie took control of the embrace with her sister, holding Mary by the shoulders and giving her a steady look. For once, she didn't say anything. She was satisfied with what she saw. She released Mary and took her husband's arm.

"Let's go. I'm as anxious to be gone from this place as they are."

Mary and Ryder changed clothes quickly once they were alone. Her gown was a serviceable blue and white gingham, while he exchanged his Army uniform for jeans, a clean white shirt, and a brown leather vest. One of Rennie's bonnets covered Mary's short curls, and Ryder tucked his long hair under the hat Jarret lent him. When the transformation was complete they bore a more than passing resemblance to Rennie and Jarret. Ryder actually began to have some confidence that their scheme just might work. They passed Rosario as they were leaving the mine. He was still bound and gagged and sleeping peacefully. Rennie and Jarret had fed him well but they had also drugged his food. Ryder didn't spare the scout a glance, though Mary said a brief prayer over him.

Mary and Ryder were able to leave the mine without incident.

Crossing the camp unnoticed was more difficult, however. The miners and track laborers who had returned were milling about, not so eager for sleep as they had been the night before. wThey sat in small groups of two and three around several different fires.

Someone was playing a fiddle, and the mood was such that even that happy instrument was given a mournful sound.

"Thought you had already left," a miner called to them as they crossed the encampment. Ryder simply raised a hand. The gesture worked as well as a verbal response.

"Mrs. Sullivan," someone else begged for attention.

"You promised you'd give me those plans tonight."

Mary could hear the footsteps behind breaking into a new rhythm as the Northeast laborer tried to catch up with them. Thinking quickly, she pulled on Ryder's sleeve and stopped him. She could tell he was questioning her judgment, uncomfortable with having a face-to-face confrontation with anyone. Mary slipped the saddlebags off Ryder's shoulder.

"Go on, she encouraged him.

"I'll be there in a moment." As Ryder strode away she quickly opened the bag and withdrew one of the maps. She had no idea which one she was handing over when the laborer finally caught her, but she kept her head low and thrust it into his hands.

"Just as I promised," she said in a credible imitation of Rennie's huskier voice.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan." He took the paper she gave him, tipped his hat, and let her go, satisfied with the exchange.

Mary's own heart was slamming hard in her chest when she came up behind Ryder. She returned the saddlebags.

"Don't take a chance like that again," he said tightly. He was furious with her and didn't care if she knew it.

"What would you have had me do?" she asked in the same harsh whisper.

"Run away? That would have raised a few eyebrows and called attention to us." It didn't make it any easier that she was right. He wasn't used to being impotent in challenging situations.

"I could have given him a map, the same as you."

"He asked for me. Rennie is the one who is the engineer, after all."

Mary clamped her mouth shut before she said something she would regret.

Without their being aware of it, their angry tandem stride had kept anyone else from calling out or approaching them. In a few minutes they were beyond the mining camp and the light from the fires dotting it. Rennie and Jarret were waiting for them in the prearranged location. Rennie gave her sister a brief hug, then began counting instructions on her fingertips.

"It's already arranged for the car to leave as soon as you arrive at the work site. Don't forget to tell them in Tucson that you want to go to Santa Fe, not to California. That will be different than the route they're used to Jarret and me taking.

I'll telegraph ahead to Santa Fe and lay out your journey from there.

After you're safely on your way we'll be able to communicate by telegraph, though I think caution is in order.

Perhaps Pittsburgh would be a good place to send messages. If the rest of us stay here a while longer, no one will suspect that we've arranged for you to leave. If Jay Mac will only cooperate it will be brilliant.

We'll confuse the Army."

Jarret and Ryder exchanged glances, but both of them were wise enough not to comment. Confusion, they had both learned, was a peculiarity of all the Marys' plans. They had no doubt that Mary Margaret and Mary Michael would fall in easily, even approve. And if Mary Schyler had been around the whole thing would have only become more elaborate.

Farewells were kept brief to ease the ache on both sides. Jarret and Ryder shook hands. Rennie kissed Ryder on the cheek. Mary embraced both her sister and her brother-in-law. When Mary could steel herself to look back at Jarret and Rennie, night hid them from her view. Out of the corner of his eye Ryder saw Mary hastily brush away a tear. He doubted it was from sadness. Tonight Mary was more likely to cry out of gratitude. He understood perfectly. Their arrival at the work site was uneventful. A guard waved to them and sauntered over to take their horses when they dismounted. Mary simply leaned against Ryder in a posture of weary affection, and conversation was effectively eliminated as the guard saw they seemed eager to retire. The private car that Rennie and Jarret used was really more of a work station. It had fewer creature comforts and more utilitarian items. Earlier in the day Rennie had removed all the essential items she needed to continue her work on the rail line, leaving the car bare of the charts and surveys that normally were scattered across every flat surface. The wide desk still held a heavy glass paperweight that served only an ornamental function now. A small armoire, bolted to the floor and the side of the car, was filled with clothing and personal items-a razor, strop, shaving soap, and combs. Clearly Rennie's intention had been for Mary and Ryder to freely use whatever they needed. Mary ran her fingertips across the dresses and shirts hanging in neat array.

"She thinks of everything," she said softly. Ryder was looking at the bookshelves that were built in under the bed.

"Everything," he agreed. Mary followed his line of vision, trying to decide if he was looking at the narrow, neatly turned down bed or the leather-bound volumes below it. Either way, she supposed, his agreement fit. Ryder slipped the saddlebags off his shoulder, propped his rifle in one corner, and unfasttened his gunbelt. He hung the latter over the chair behind the desk, then crossed the car to the bed and sat down. There was a large basket on the middle of the covers. He opened its hinged lid and saw it was filled with food for the first leg of their journey. Ryder placed it on the floor and leaned back on his elbows. One corner of his mouth lifted in dry amusement as he watched Mary flit around the car examining one thing and then another. She made a point of checking all the lamps for oil as well as to be certain they were secure. She drew open the curtain that shielded the commode, wash basin, and toiletries from view. Availing herself of a glass of water from the keg below the washstand, Mary also familiarized herself with the contents of the oak cupboard.

"You can't be that interested in bath salts and lavender soaps," Ryder said.

"A lot you know," she retorted' closing the cupboard and pushing the curtain back in place.

"After weeks and weeks of cold dips in that well, I'm looking forward to a warm bath in scented water." To prove her point she went over to the copper hip bath and stepped inside it. Just fantasizing what it would be like filled with steaming, fragrant water brought a flush to Mary's skin. She hugged herself, closing her eyes.

"Mmm," she murmured.

"Can't you imagine it?" Ryder could quite well. The vision of Mary up to her neck in bubbles-and nothing else--was very clear in his mind's eye. He even adjusted his vision so the bubbles only came as far as her breasts. If he looked carefully he could make out the tips of her coral nipples peeping through. It was easy to conceive of time passing and the bubbles disappearing in tiny bursts. The steam would have made the ends of her hair curl damply, and droplets of water would cling to her white shoulders. The hollow of her throat would hold the scent of lavender. Her complexion would glow with a thin film of water, like dew on the petals of a flower. In his mind the hip bath suddenly became large enough for two.

"Ryder!" Mary called his name sharply. He blinked and sat up straighter.

"What?"

"You know what. Stop intruding on my imagination." A touch of ruddy color crept under his complexion, betraying the tenor of his thoughts.

He didn't apologize for them though.

"Well, as long as you're going to avoid this bed, I may as well live on dreams." Mary raised her brows skeptically and unfastened her bonnet.

Stepping out of the tub, she sent the hat sailing across the car toward Ryder. He caught it and fell back on the bed as if laid low by a weapon.

"Very amusing," she said dryly. Lifting one corner of his mouth was as much amusement as he could muster. Watching him, Mary shook her head bemusedly. He could make her heart turn over with so little effort that sometimes it stung her pride. She constantly battled being too easily led, surrendering so much of herself that she would not know where she left off and he began. He did not seem to have the same concerns.

Ryder could give himself up to any moment and still come away whole.

She asked him about it later. They were lying comfortably in the narrow bed, the crisp sheets and covers in a tangled disarray about them. He had made love to her with such sweet passion that Mary's skin still tingled.

"How do you do it?" she asked, leaning over him, her forearms crossed on his chest. He was so utterly at peace now, his features calm and untroubled, it was difficult to equate him with the man whose taut body had rocked her only minutes earlier. Tension had engraved the lines of his face then, working a muscle in his jaw, straining the cords of his neck.