aJessi?a Lost in the echoes of her terrifying discovery, Jessica neither heard nor answered Wolfeas low query. He hesitated, then began probing the soft leather of Jessicaas boot with fingers that were gentle and firm at the same time. He thought she flinched when he pressed deeply against her ankle, but it was difficult to be certain.

aCan you ride?a Wolfe asked, stepping back.

aIam riding.a There was no mockery in Jessicaas words, merely a statement of fact. At the moment, she was riding a horse.

aJessi, whatas wrong?a She looked past Wolfe, through him, seeing only the emptiness of the wind, hearing only its low, triumphant cry.

With swift almost vicious movements, Wolfe took up the right stirrup of his saddle. He couldnat get it short enough for Jessicaas slender foot to reach.

ab.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l,a he muttered.

If Jessica heard, she said nothing.

A gust of wind brought the sound of a horse cantering closer. Wolfe glanced up, saw Rafeas big bay coming into sight, and went back to letting the stirrup down to its former length.

The trail Rafe was following told its own story. A horse going to its knees, a ragged swath cut by Jessicaas body, and the deep gouges where Wolfeas big mare had plunged down the slope. Jessicaas bloodless face and Wolfeas flattened mouth told more of the story, but not enough.

aIs she hurt?a Rafe asked.

aHer right ankle is sore, but itas her pride that took the worst beating.a Rafe looked at Jessica. She didnat notice him. Nor did she seem to notice anything else. There was a quality about the stillness of her body that made Rafeas eyes narrow. He had seen men who looked like that, men pushed to their limits by pain or starvation or war.

aSheas finished,a Rafe said. aThere was a good camping spot back about a mile.a The wind twisted again, drawing a veil of snow over the cold land.

aWeare going over the Great Divide.a Wolfe vaulted into the saddle behind Jessica. aSee that Two-Spot doesnat get lost. The pack horses are used to following him.a A touch of Wolfeas spurs lifted the brown mare into a trot. A hard arm came around Jessica, holding her in place. Her body went rigid, but she said nothing. Nor did she fight him. She did nothing but sink farther and farther into herself, looking for a way out of the trap in which she had so brutally tangled herself and Wolfe.

She found none but to endure and then endure some more.

I canat.

And pray that Wolfe would change because she could not.

I canat.

I must be strong. Just for a bit longer. A few minutes.

The minutes pa.s.sed.

A few more.

When those minutes pa.s.sed, Jessica asked herself for a few more, and then a few more, until half an hour had gone by, an hour, then two. Three.

Slowly, a breath at a time, she endured, learning how to live without Wolfe as her talisman, learning how to survive in a world ruled by the soulless wind of nightmare and memory combined.

10.

aW OLFE, I canat believe itas really you! Caleb said the high pa.s.ses were buried in snow after the last storm.a Willowas husky contralto cry made Jessicaas lips flatten into an unhappy line. She should have expected the b.l.o.o.d.y paragon to have a beautiful voice. Rather grimly, Jessica waited to see what the paragon looked like, but even when Willow stepped from the house, she was still concealed by the dense shadows of the porch.

aItas me, all right,a Wolfe said, smiling as he dismounted and crossed the ground with long strides to give Willow a hug. aIave brought you a present.a aSeeing you is present enough,a she said, laughing and holding out her arms.

The clear affection in Willowas voice and face was matched by Wolfe as he folded Willow close in a gentle bearhug. A dark combination of jealousy and despair snaked through Jessica, shaking her, for she had believed she could no longer be touched by anything but the black wind whispering to her of nightmares that had been reborn in daylight, and memories that refused to remain forgotten.

I would have had a chance with Wolfe but for the b.l.o.o.d.y paragon. She is destroying me as surely as slow poison.

Jessica stared into the shadow of the porch, but could see nothing of Willow except slender arms wrapped around Wolfeas waist.

Sheall be beautiful, of course, Jessica thought bitterly. As beautiful as this huge meadow and as perfect as those mountains crowned with ice.

Unhappily, Jessica glanced around, measuring the glory of the mountain ranch against the darkness that was condensing relentlessly in her soul, draining color from her life as surely as the slow condensation of night would drain color from the day.

aCome and meet your present,a Wolfe said, smiling down at Willow as he released her.

aMeet a present?a aUmmm.a The purring sound of pleasure Wolfe made was a steel-tipped whip flaying Jessicaas raw emotions. She had thought she could feel no greater rage, no greater despair, than she had felt the day she had ridden over the Great Divide.

She had been wrong. She seemed to make a habit of being wrong where Wolfe was concerned.

May the b.l.o.o.d.y paragon writhe in h.e.l.l.

Then Willow stepped into the bright sunlight and Jessicaas breath came in with a harsh sound. The paragon wouldnat have to wait for h.e.l.l. It had already sunk its unsheathed claws deeply in her body. Willow was in the last stage of pregnancy, frankly round with the babe that would tear her apart trying to be born.

Dear G.o.d, help her in her time of need.

The silent, involuntary prayer that vibrated through Jessica was deeper and more powerful than her jealousy. She could take no pleasure in the agony that awaited Willow in childbed. Nor could she hate Willow any longer. Jessica could feel only a terrible empathy with the girl whose fate was to writhe and scream for mercy that never came, a wifeas endless cycle of male rutting and childbedas torture; and over all, around all, consuming all was the black wind and the disbelieving shriek of the newly d.a.m.ned.

The realization of what awaited Willow made the sound of her laughter and teasing voice almost too painful for Jessica to bear. She watched with helpless agony as Willow took Wolfeas arm to steady herself across the uneven ground where small patches of snow and mud competed with the green resurgence of life.

When Willow walked past Two-Spot, she looked up at Jessica with curiosity and a quick smile that offered friendship. Jessica smiled in return, but Wolfe didnat stop or even look up.

aWolfe?a asked Willow, tugging on his arm.

aYour present is next in line.a Grinning, Rafe kicked his right leg over his horseas mane and slid to the ground. When he took off his hat, the sun blazed in his pale gold hair, hair that was the exact color of Willowas.

Willow stared, made a sound of joyous disbelief, then began laughing and crying and saying Rafeas name over and over again. Rafe picked her up in a big hug and held her for a long time, saying things that were too soft for anyone but Willow to hear. Finally, he set her down and blotted the happy tears that were streaming down her face.

aWell, w.i.l.l.y, I have to say you grew up to be quite a woman. From what Wolfe told me, youave got yourself a fine man.a Rafe paused, then added slyly, aSure as h.e.l.l heas a potent one.a Willow flushed, laughed, and swatted her older brother on his broad chest. aShame on you. Youare not supposed to notice.a aBe kind of like overlooking a mountain,a he retorted. aWhen are you going to make me an uncle?a aIn a few weeks.a She smiled up at her older, much bigger brother. aDear Lord, Rafe. Itas so good to see you! I canat wait until Caleb and Matt get back from checking the north meadow.a aI canat wait, period. Iall ride out as soon as weave unloaded the pack animals.a Willow slipped her arm through Rafeas and said, aIam almost afraid to let you out of my sight. Itas been years.a She rubbed her cheek against his arm and took a deep breath. aNow, introduce me to your wife. Sheas beautiful, but I expected that. You always had an eye for beauty, whether it was women, horses, dogs, or land.a aRed is beautiful, all right,a Rafe agreed, abut sheas Wolfeas wife, not mine.a Open-mouthed, Willow spun and stared at Wolfe. Every question she had died unspoken when she saw his bleak, blue-black eyes.

Swallowing quickly, Willow turned to the girl who sat in her sidesaddle so elegantly. She had a delicate, elfin face, aquamarine gems for eyes, and hair whose buried fire rippled and shimmered with every motion of her body. The riding habit she wore had seen hard use, but its fashionable lines and fine fabric spoke eloquently of wealth.

Abruptly, Willow remembered. aLady Jessica Charteris?a aNot any longer. My name is Jessica Lonetree. Or Jessi.a aOr Red?a Willow asked innocently.

aOr Red,a Jessica agreed, smiling slightly at Rafe. aItas the Western way to have nicknames, Iam told.a aGet down and come into the house. You must be exhausted. I remember my first trip over the Great Divide. If it hadnat been for Caleb, I wouldnat have made it. He ended up carrying me.a aWe came the easy way,a Wolfe said. aLady Jessica has neither your strength nor your adaptability.a Willow gave Wolfe an uncertain look, wondering at the edge to his voice.

aI disagree,a she said quietly. aAnyone who came through those moutains riding sidesaddle is stronger than I am.a Wolfe grunted and said nothing.

Jessica began dismounting, moving stiffly. Before she could put any weight on her right leg, Rafe caught her waist between his big hands and supported her until her left foot was able to take most of her weight.

aI could have managed,a Jessica said in a low voice, abut thank you.a Only Willow saw the instant of anger before Wolfe brought it under control, just as she had been the only one to see the small, almost involuntary movement he had made toward Jessica when she began to dismount.

aNo point in pushing your luck,a Rafe said. aYour ankle still isnat up to snuff.a aWhat happened?a Willow asked.

aShe fell off,a Wolfe said curtly.

aItas nothing,a Jessica said. aA bruise. Nothing at all.a aNonsense,a Willow said, seeing the strain on Jessicaas face. aCome in and sit down. Iall make you some tea.a aTea?a Jessica looked stunned. aYou actually have tea?a Willow laughed. aItas left over from Wolfeas last visit. Heas the only one who drinks it.a Jessica gave Wolfe a shocked look, remembering how many times she had longed for a comforting cup of tea.

aBut we had only coffee,a she said faintly.

aWestern wives drink coffee. You wanted to be a Western wife. Remember?a The cool taunt in Wolfeas words was unmistakable. Rafeas eyes narrowed as he winced and said something under his breath. But he said nothing aloud. He and Wolfe had reached a tacit agreement where Jessica was concerned: Jessica was Wolfeas responsibility, not Rafeas. Rafe didnat understand what was driving Wolfe, but he was certain that Wolfe wasnat a cruel man by nature.

So was Willow. With a perplexed look at Wolfe, she took Jessicaas hand.

aCome with me.a aFirst I have to care for my horse,a Jessica said.

aLet Wolfe do it.a aWestern wives take care of their own horses. They curry, saddle, bridle, clean the feet of, rub down, and otherwisea"a aGo to the house,a Wolfe interrupted curtly. aIall see to your horse.a aWell, I should hope so,a Willow said tartly. aJessi has ridden just as far as you have and she hasnat a third your strength. Plus that ridiculous sidesaddle. Iad like to see how spritely youad feel if you had to ride that way. Honestly, Wolfe, whatas gotten into you?a Jessica wondered at the dull red stain on Wolfeas cheekbones as he turned away and led horses toward the barn, but Willow tugged at her hand, distracting her.

aIave never been able to make a good cup of tea,a Willow confessed, leading Jessica firmly toward the porch. aYouall have to show me how.a aA paragon who canat make tea.a Jessica blinked. aImpossible. Breathtaking.a She smiled slightly and shook her head. aActually quite wonderful.a aWho said I was a paragon?a aI did,a Jessica admitted. aWith a lot of encouragement from Wolfe.a aGood Lord. Why?a aBecause compared to me, you are.a Willow made a rude sound. aYouave had a very long trip. It must have affected your mind. Not to mention Wolfeas. Iave never seen him so edgy.a aPerhaps a cup of tea would help,a Jessica suggested with an unconscious sigh.

Willow muttered something that sounded like, aA swift kick in the pants might do more good.a aParagons donat think such things.a The hazel flash of Willowas eyes was alive with wry laughter. aPerhaps. And perhaps paragons just arenat caught thinking them.a The front door opened and closed, cutting off the sound of womenas voices. The men hadnat been able to hear any real words for the last few minutes, but it hadnat been difficult to guess what the topic of conversation wasa"Wolfeas manners.

Or lack thereof.

After a few moments of silence, Wolfe glanced up from the pack horse he was working on and let out a long breath. Hearing it, Rafe smiled.

aWell, I can see that marriage hasnat trimmed w.i.l.l.yas tongue one bit,a Rafe said wryly as he undid the saddle cinch. aShe can still tear a mean strip when she has a mind to. Only thing she does better is make biscuits.a Wolfe grunted.

aOf course,a Rafe said, lifting the saddle one-handed from the horseas back, athe fact that a man knows he has it coming tends to make it sting all the worse.a Wolfe spun around, ready to take exception to Rafeas calm words, but the other man had already turned away. Saddle balanced on one shoulder, saddle bags and bedroll slung over the other, Rafe was walking through the barn door.

Letting out another long breath, Wolfe made another stab at reining in his temper. The whole point of bringing Jessica to the ranch had been to show her how completely unsuited she was to be a Western wife. It hadnat been to point out how hard Wolfe was being on her. He knew that already.

Just as he knew his plan to make Jessica cry annulment was working. Slowly, surely, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, he was wearing down her certainty that she would win the contest of wills with Wolfe.

I shall not tire of being your wife.

Yes, you shall.

With each breath Jessica took, they were coming closer to the moment when she would be forced to admit her defeat and free both of them from the cruel trap of a marriage that never should have been.

Wolfe hoped Jessica would give in soon. Very soon. He didnat know how much longer he could go on grinding a graceful elf into dust. He had never felt another personas pain so clearly. It was worse than being hurt himself, for he had learned to control his own pain long ago, when he had realized that to many people his Indian mother put him beyond the pale of true humanity.

The viscountas savage.

But there was no way to control the effects of the pain Wolfe was causing Jessica. There was only the knowledge that when the pain became great enough, she would quit the sham marriage between aristocrat and halfbreed b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Nothing of Wolfeas grim thoughts showed on his face as he worked over the horses, or later when he went to the house and found Jessica asleep in the extra bedroom. In the daylight filtering through the muslin curtains, she looked almost ethereal. Asleep, the fierce will that burned so surprisingly beneath her fragile surface was banked, giving no hint of what lay beneath the delicate features and fine bones.

Broodingly, Wolfe looked at the translucence of Jessicaas skin and the lavender shadows beneath her eyes. Seeing her like this, he could barely believe she had the strength to sit up, much less to defy him when men far stronger than she was would have given up the game long since.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced in Wolfeaa cold day in spring and a creek in flood. Trapped amid the debris was a blue-eyed wolf cub whose back had been broken. The cub had snarled silently up at Wolfe, prepared to die fighting with teeth that had known nothing but a motheras milk. Wolfe had allowed the cubas needle fangs to sink all the way to the bone, for it had been the only way to get in close enough for a quick, clean kill, ending the cubas suffering.

With an effort, Wolfe banished the memory and the chill that had come in its wake. He wasnat going to harm Jessica physically, much less kill her. The trap they were caught in was less tangled than flood debris. It would spring open at a single word from her pale lips.

Annulment.

Wolfe tore his attention away from Jessica and began looking for places to put the valises and fur blanket he had brought in. The far corner looked promising, but a second look showed that it was occupied by a cradle. Stacked nearby were other tiny pieces of furniture, waiting the for next generation of Blacks to be born.

The thought of what it would be like to be awaiting the birth of his own child went through Wolfe like lightning, leaving only darkness in its wake. He set down the valises and turned to leave. His steps brought him past the bed. He stopped, held by something he could not name.

Jessica stirred and shivered with the residue of winter that still gripped the house. Despite her chill, she didnat awaken. Instead, she huddled around herself as though understanding even in sleep that she must h.o.a.rd her own warmth, for there was no one to care for her.

Jessiad.a.m.n it, what are you doing to us? Let go of me before I do something that weall both regret to our dying breath.

The soft fur blanket settled as lightly as a sigh over Jessica. Wolfe drew the blanket up to her chin, stared at the beauty of her hair against the l.u.s.trous fur, and then left the room in three long, silent strides.

aWHY am I called Reno?a he asked, repeating Jessicaas question.

aOh dear,a Jessica said quickly, looking up from a plate of Willowas delicious food. aWas it rude of me to ask? Iam still not certain of your customs.a Reno smiled. The flash of his teeth against his black mustache was vivid, but not as vivid as the green of his eyes framed by thick lashes a woman would have envied. Like Willow and Rafe, Renoas eyes were slightly tilted, almost cat-like in their impact. Unlike Willow, there was nothing the least bit feminine about Reno. He was as big and hard as Rafe.

And life Rafe, Reno had been captivated by the delicate British elf whose ice-blue eyes and coolly accented English were at odds with the fire buried in her glorious hair.

aRed, you couldnat be rude if you tried.a As Reno spoke, he kept an eye on the huge basket of biscuits that was making the rounds of the dinner table. If he didnat watch closely, Rafe would make off with more than his share.

aA while back I was looking for gold over in the Sierra Nevadas,a Reno said absently. aI came across an old Frenchman who had had some bad luck with a gold claim he called Renoas Revenge. Later, I found the men who had the Frenchmanas gold and explained how much the old man needed it for his granddaughter. They thought it over and gave the gold back. After that, people started calling me Reno.a Wolfe made an odd sound and put his napkin to his mouth. Nearby, Caleb choked quietly on a mouthful of venison. Jessica didnat need to see the unholy laughter in Calebas amber eyes to realize she hadnat heard the full story of how Matthew Moran had come to be called Reno.

aDammit, unhand those biscuits,a Reno complained.

aI havenat had thirds yet,a Rafe said.

aOver my dead body.a aWhatever you say.a Willow thumped her husbandas broad back and at the same time buried her face in her napkin, m.u.f.fling her own laughter. After a moment, Caleb turned, captured Willowas hand and brushed it against his lips. She lowered her napkin and curled her fingers through his as he returned his hand to his lap. Husband and wife resumed eating one-handed, for neither wanted to separate their closely linked fingers.

aPa.s.s those biscuits along, boys,a Caleb said dryly. aThereas more in the kitchen.a A curious sensation went through Jessica as she glanced from the corner of her eyes at the slender hand that was so carefully held in Calebas much more powerful grip. The longer Jessica watched Caleb and Willow, the more she realized that there was a genuine and quite baffling affection between husband and wife. Despite the fact that Willow was so heavy with the results of Calebas rutting that she could barely rise unaided from a chair, Willow watched her husband as though expecting the sun to rise in him at any moment. He watched her in the same way, his love very plain in his golden eyes.

Yet at one time Caleb had cared so little for Willow that he had given free rein to his baser nature, knowing full well that the result would be her agony in childbed. Caleb didnat have the excuse or requirement of duty forcing him to put his wife at risk in such a way. There was no need for Willowas painful fate, for Caleb had neither t.i.tles nor wealth nor ancient bloodlines to pa.s.s on to another generation. Yet Willow was pregnant just the same. Even more baffling, she appeared quite happy about her state.

Frowning, Jessica tried to reconcile Willowas dangerous pregnancy with Calebas obvious love for his wife. It was even more difficult to reconcile Willowas obvious pleasure in a man who had so little regard for her welfare. Yet there, too, Jessica had no doubt of the reality of Willowas emotions. She did not shrink from her husbandas touch. Rather, she sought it in subtle ways, crossing the room just to stand close to him when he laid the evening fire.

aYou sure thatas how you got your moniker?a Wolfe asked neutrally.

aClose enough,a Reno said.

aThatas not even close enough for horseshoes,a Wolfe retorted.