The breeze sighed over Janna's face, stirring wisps of auburn hair. The delicate brushing movement reminded her of Ty's gentleness when he had first taken her into his arms to calm her after her encounter with the snake. An odd frisson of sensation raced through Janna's body from her breasts to her thighs as she remembered what had followed the first soft kisses.

And on the heels of hot memories came the icy knowledge that Ty was hers for only a short time, just long enough to find and tame Lucifer. Then Ty would go in search of the silken lady he was determined to have. A yearning to be that lady twisted through Janna with such painful intensity that she couldn't breathe.

Don't be a fool, she told herself harshly. I know all about silk purses and sows' ears.A man like Ty does, too. He was raised in a grand house with servants and tutors and people to tell him how to speak and eat and dress and write a fine hand. I had my father and a wagon seat and a trunk full of old books. I can read and write… and that's all. If I ever wore a dress, I've forgotten what it feels like. The only shoes I remember having are the moccasins I make for myself. The only perfume I know is what I make from crushed flowers. The only salves I have are for healing, not for making me beautiful. The only thing my hands are good for is surviving, not for playing grand songs on a piano.

Then Janna remembered one other thing her hands had proven to be good for-arousing Ty until he was as hot and hard as sun-warmed stone. If she closed her eyes she could still feel him changing within her grasp, becoming full and tight and heavy, moving blindly between her hands, seeking more of her.

Will he want me like that again tonight, nothing but the two of us locked together and pleasure like a fire burning between us?

Without thinking, Janna turned and looked over her shoulder where she knew Ty would be. He was standing as motionless as she was, and he was watching her with eyes that glittered like green gems. She sensed in that moment that he knew her thoughts, her memories, for they were his thoughts, his memories.

The breeze blew softly, caressing Janna's face. Ty could see the stirring of soft auburn hair. He knew what those silky wisps felt like on his lips, knew what her skin tasted like along her hairline, knew that she trembled when the tip of his tongue traced her ear or found the pulse beating in her neck. And he knew from the sudden, slight parting of her lips that she was remembering what it had felt like to have his tongue slide between her teeth to probe and caress the passionate softness of her mouth.

Janna made no sound as she turned away from Ty, but he knew why she had retreated. If they had looked at each other for even one more second, he would have pulled her down to the ground and taken her and to hell with the risk. It would have been worth it to die of ecstasy and then to be reborn and die again, sheathed so perfectly within her body.

The small, normal sounds of the forest surrounded Janna as she moved from shadow to shadow, all senses alert. A squirrel scolded a trespassing cousin, two ravens called as they flew overhead, and needles whispered secretively as they combed through the erratic breeze. Through the massed, dark trunks and dead lower branches of the pines, Janna caught occasional views of the sunny meadow.

There were game trails crisscrossing the forest and the meadow itself. Whenever Janna came to such a path, she stopped and read the signs left by passing animals. The damp earth held tracks for a long time, telling of the passage of deer and coyote, cougar and bear, men and horses. The first few game trails were little more than faint threads winding around deadfalls and between trees. The fourth path she discovered was much more obvious, for it was frequently used by wild horses. The trail began at the west end of the meadow and took a reasonably straight line toward the northwest corner of the plateau, where Raven Creek cut through the land on its way to joining the warm, shallow waters of Santos Wash-and Cascabel's sprawling renegade camp guarding the northwest approach to the plateau.

Suddenly Janna went to her knees, her heart pounding. There, alongside the main trail, was a partial track left by a large, unshod horse.

"Lucifer," she said, spreading her fingers, measuring the huge print.

"Are you sure?" Ty asked, quickly kneeling beside her. "There's not much of a track to go on."

"No other horse but Cascabel's is so big. But there's no sign that this horse has ever been shod, and Cascabel's has."

Silently Ty began casting for a sign on either side of the trail. He wasn't long in finding it.

"Janna."

She came to her feet instantly and ran to his side.

"He was coming out of the meadow and something spooked him," Ty said softly, pointing to the place where Lucifer's hooves had dug abruptly into the trail, gouging out clots of dirt and debris as he sprang to one side. "He took off running through the trees."

Janna looked from the churned earth to the forest beyond. A faint trail of disturbed pine needles showed as lighter marks against the forest floor. She bent and studied the damp, undisturbed ground and the tracks themselves.

And then she saw the blood.

Joe Troon took off with his rifle. Swore he was going to crease or kill Lucifer.

With a trembling hand she touched the blood spoor. It was neither fresh nor old.

"The tracks were left within the past few hours," Ty said.

"So was the blood."

Janna sensed rather than saw Ty's head jerk toward her. Within seconds he was squatting on his heels next to her, rubbing a bit of the dark, thumbnail-size spot between his fingers. He stared at the results and cursed the man who hadn't drunk enough to miss entirely.

"I'll bet it happened just after dawn," Ty said.

"We heard more than one shot."

Ty grunted. "There's more than one renegade riding around here looking for trouble. Maybe one of them found Joe Troon."

Ty rubbed his hand clean on his pants and stood. The idea of the magnificent stallion slowly bleeding to death made him sick. But before they followed Lucifer's trail, they had to know if it were Joe Troon or a renegade party they were likely to run into.

"I'm going to cast around back toward the meadow and see if I can find what spooked Lucifer," Ty said. "You follow his tracks. I'll follow you. If you lose the trail, stay put until I catch up." He looked into her clear eyes. "Do you want the carbine?"

She shook her head. "Keep it. I haven't shot a long gun in years. Snares or a bow and arrow are much more quiet for hunting game."

"At least take my pistol."

Janna hesitated, then gave in. She wouldn't do either Ty or herself much good if she stumbled across renegades and all she had to throw at them was a handful of pine needles.

Frowning uneasily, Ty watched Janna push his big revolver behind her belt. He knew it was irrational of him not to want to leave her alone-after all, she had survived for years on her own in this very country-but he still didn't like it.

"You're coming with me," he said without warning.

Startled, she looked up. "Why?"

"My backbone is itchy as all hell, that's why, and I'm a man who listens to my instincts."

"Lucifer's bleeding. If I hurry-"

"A few minutes more or less won't make much difference," Ty interrupted. "Besides, there's no way we can be sure that it was a bullet that hurt him. Could have been a sharp branch he shied into. Could have been another horse. I've seen him fight more than one eager stud and they both walked away dripping blood." Ty turned back toward the meadow. "Hurry up. We're wasting time talking when we could be tracking."

Mouth open, Janna watched Ty trot off along the game trail, covering ground at a good clip while looking for signs of other horses or other men. If he noticed that she wasn't following, he gave no indication of it.