could give him that.
«My sister died after giving birth to your bastard,» Caleb said, and his eyes promised vengeance for that death.
Reno saw the barely controlled rage in Caleb and had no doubt that the other man was telling what he believed to be the truth.
Reno also had no doubt that it wasn’t the truth.
«When?» he asked flatly.
«Last year.»
«Where?»
«Listen, you —»
«Where?» demanded Reno, cutting Caleb off.
What Reno really wanted to know was the girl’s name, but he knew if he asked, Caleb would reach for his gun. A minute ago, Reno would have been glad to provoke the fight.
But not now.
Caleb was right. As long as Slater and his men were around, the real loser in any fight would be Willow.
«Arizona Territory,» Caleb said, biting off each word.
Reno’s eyes widened in surprise as he put facts together. «You’re the Man from Yuma.»
«Dead right, Reno. I’ve been hunting you for a long time.»
Willow flinched at the hatred in Caleb’s voice. She remembered something Eddy had said, something about letting Caleb know if he heard anything about a man called Reno. A new fear grew in Willow, a fear so great she could barely breathe.
Had Caleb known all along that her brother was called Reno? Was that why Caleb had seduced her? Eye for eye…
The thought went through Willow with an agony as great as her love. She prayed that Caleb hadn’t known her brother’s nickname before tonight.
«You’re dead wrong, Yuma man. I never touched your sister. Marty did, though. He was crazy for her.»
There was a taut silence as the two men measured each other across the ashes of a dead campfire. The temptation to believe Reno was so great that it shook Caleb, telling him how much he didn’t want to kill Willow’s brother.
«Who,» Caleb asked softly, «is Marty?»
«MartinBusher, my partner. At least he was until he met Becky Black. I saw the way things were going and drifted.»
«Where is he now?»
«Dead.»
The breath came out of Caleb in a long sigh. «Are you certain?»
«He was supposed to meet up with me here about eight months ago,» Reno said. «We were going prospecting. He never showed up. I waited two weeks, then went prospecting on my own. I figured he got married and settled down.» Reno’s expression changed, hardening. «One day I heard shots. I went to take a look. When I got there, the fight was over. Marty was dead.»
«Utes?»
«Probably. None of the horses wore shoes.»
Caleb hesitated before he very slowly reached into his pocket with his left hand, making certain that every motion was illuminated by moonlight.
«Don’t get edgy, Reno. This isn’t my shooting hand. I’ve got something I want you to look at.»
Reputation and observation had told Reno that Caleb was indeed a right-handed shooter, but Reno watched very carefully just the same. More than one man had died watching the wrong hand.
All that came from Caleb’s pocket was a gold locket. He flicked it open, using his left thumbnail.
«Strike a match,» Caleb said.
Reno did, using his right hand, for he was a left-handed shooter.
Gold metal shone brightly, reflecting the flare of the match. Willow saw the locket, remembered Caleb showing it to her, asking her if the people inside were her «husband’s» parents. Fear filled her, choking her. With a tiny sound, she did what she had done during the war when she had hidden and men had drawn so near that fear threatened to overwhelm her; she bit into her hand until physical pain restored her self-control.
«Recognize them?» Caleb asked.
A quick glance was all Reno spared. It was all he needed. «Must be Marty’s folks.»
«Must be? Why?»
«Ears,» Reno said succinctly. «Marty could put a milk pitcher to shame.»
A muffled sound that was part laughter and part relief came from Caleb, but he still didn’t understand what had happened to put him on the trail of the wrong man.
«When I asked Becky who the father was,» Caleb said slowly, «she told me a man called Reno, a man whose real name was Matthew Moran.»
The words echoed in Willow’s head, her worst fears calmly spoken by the man she loved.
The man who didn’t love her.
The man who had been hunting Matthew Moran, nicknamed Reno. But Caleb hadn’t found Reno. So Caleb used what he did find, which was a girl who could lead him to Reno.
A chill shook Willow as she understood that Caleb was indeed what he had seemed in Denver, a dark angel of retribution.
Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.
Sister for sister.
The vague salt and copper taste of blood spread through Willow’s mouth, but the pain of her hand was nothing compared to the bleak realization that she had been seduced in order to balance the merciless scales of a justice that was as hard as Caleb Black.
«Becky said her man gave her the locket when he rode out to make their fortune in gold.»
Reno hissed a word under his breath. «Your sister lied about me, Yuma man.»
«I’m beginning to think so,» Caleb agreed calmly, «but why?»
«What were you going to do when you found your sister’s seducer?»
«Beat the living hell out of him, then stand him up in front of a preacher with Rebecca,» Caleb said.
Reno smiled grimly. «My sentiments exactly. Did she know what you were going to do?»
«She knew me.»
«Then she was probably trying to protect her man, such as he was. Marty couldn’t have been more than seventeen. He was a good kid, but he wasn’t up to your weight in any kind of fight.» Reno smiled savagely. «I am. I know just what to do with a man who forces himself on an innocent girl.»
«I didn’t force Willow and you know it.»
«Like hell, Yuma man. You were alone with her. She was at your mercy and you —»
«Tell him, Willow,» Caleb interrupted, his voice like a whip.
Without looking away from Reno, Caleb held out his left hand to the girl who had been standing motionless in darkness, trying not to make a sound. Caleb had wanted to spare Willow this, but it was too late now.
«Tell your brother how it was between us right from the start,» Caleb said.
«Get away from him, Willy.»
Without a word to either man, Willow lowered her hand from her mouth and walked forward until her boots crunched among the ashes of the dead campfire. Ignoring Caleb’s outstretched hand until he slowly withdrew it, she stood between the men, looking at neither of them, touching neither of them. A single drop of blood slid down her hand like a black tear in the moonlight.
It would be as close to crying as she came. Tears came from hope or fear, and Willow felt neither. Not anymore. All she felt was cold.
«Willy?» Reno asked quietly, worried by his sister’s eerie calm.
«I begged for him to take me.»
For a moment, the meaning of Willow’s words escaped both men. They were too shocked by her voice to
