This Fierce Splendor

the marriage?”

Rising Star shook her head. There was no use arousing Silver’s fervent protectiveness by revealing Torres’s schemes. “It was not Malvina’s doing. Elspeth wed Dominic of her own will.”

Disappointment clouded Silver’s expression. “I thought perhaps…”

“I know.” Rising Star picked up the folded slip of paper from the desk and handed it to Silver. “She left this note for you.”

Silver unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly. Disappointment showed plainly in her expression. “I am not to follow her. She will see me when she returns. She holds me in the greatest affection.” She suddenly crushed the paper in the palm of her hand. “But I want to be with them.”

“She would only send you back,” Rising Star said gently. “She feels she has taken too much from you.”

“She does not understand. I want to help,” Silver said. “Why does she not understand?”

Rising Star understood, if Elspeth did not. To be permitted to give service was to belong, to be denied the giving of gifts was to be shut out in the cold outer darkness. Oh, yes, she understood very well. “She wants to keep you out of harm’s way. She does not mean to close you off from her or to hurt you.”

Silver’s head lifted, her light eyes glittering proudly. “She did not hurt me. I did not really want to go chasing after a dream city. It is probably better that I stay here. It is more important for me to help find Torres.” She walked swiftly to the door. “Yes, I am needed more here.”

“Silver, no!”

But Silver was gone, the bedroom door left ajar, and the soft thud of her moccasinned feet sounding on the stairs.

Rising Star moved slowly across the room to close the door, sympathy for Silver engulfing her. Would the girl never learn she could not force them to yield a place for her? She had received a thousand cuts to her soul, and yet she still rushed forward with reckless passion.

No, her own way was best, Rising Star thought. Patience and conformity to the rules of the white world were the best attributes for an Indian who wished to survive and live with them. Silver would just have to learn that lesson as she had.

Lanterns, hung on the posts of the corral so the linen could see to cut out and saddle the horses, cast a soft glow over the scene. About twenty vaqueros were mounted and waiting to ride out. Cort, Sean, and young William were strolling toward the corral from the direction of the barn and Silver could see Patrick, Joshua, and Shamus just ahead, their destination the same as hers.

“Wait!” Silver ran across the flagstones. “I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.” Shamus whirled to face her. The gray stetson on his head threw his face into shadow, and the lantern light behind him made his body look ominously large and dark. “This is Delaney business.”

“That’s why I’m going with you. You need me to help you find that son of a bitch who shot Dominic.”

“Watch your language,” Shamus said sharply. “You may not believe you’re a female, but I won’t have Malvina’s ears sullied by your filthy mouth.”

Silver made a gesture of impatience. “Malvina’s still in the house. Besides, that is not important. Do you want to find Torres or not?”

“We’ll find him,” Shamus said. “Patrick is a damn good tracker. We don’t need you.”

“I taught Patrick,” Silver snapped. “When we were children I took him out into the woods and taught him what I had learned from my grandfather, Black Bear.”

“That’s right, she did, Gran-da,” Patrick interjected quickly. “There’s no one better on the trail than Silver.”

Silver shot him a glance of passionate gratitude that was immediately hidden beneath a facade of nonchalance. “You were not as clumsy as I thought you would be,” she conceded. “But you were never as good as me.”

“Thank you.” Patrick’s voice held a note of dry humor. “I’m glad you think I’m not completely beyond help.”

“Patrick’s good enough,” Shamus said. “You get along back to the house.”

“Why?” Silver’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I can help you. Only a very stupid man would refuse help when it is offered.”

“Or one who doubts the quality of the help,” Shamus said. “I told you the Delaneys have no-”

“You do need me.” Silver took a step closer. “I can track and live off the land. I can read the turn of a stone or the way a blade of grass is crushed. I can do anything I want to do. Hell, if I wanted to, I could build a fine rancho like this one. No, a much finer rancho. And I’m a Delaney too. There’s no shame in accepting help from me. Let me find this man for you.”

Shamus’s eyes narrowed on her face. “You think you can do anything in the whole damn world.”

She stared back at him unflinchingly. “Why not? Don’t you, old man?”

Shamus started to turn away.

“Stop!” Silver’s voice vibrated with emotion. “I want to hear you say it, Shamus. Just this once, tell the truth. You know I am a Delaney. Say it!”

He glared at her over his shoulder. “Why should I change my mind? There’s no proof you’re Boyd’s daughter.”

“You know it, old man.” Silver’s eyes blazed. “And I know it! I want nothing else from you. You can keep your rancho, your fine horses, and your cattle. I want only one thing from you. Name me your kin.”

Shamus gazed back at her, anger, defiance, and an odd element of pride illuminating his harsh features. He turned away. “We’ve got no time for this nonsense. Go back to the house and tell your aunt I told her to teach you some manners.”

“Tell me.”

He stopped and was silent for a long moment, his expression hidden from her. Then he looked back over his shoulder. “You’re no Delaney. I said it fifteen years ago and I say it now.”

Silver’s lids fluttered for the tenth of a second, her body tensing as if it had received a blow. Her eyes shimmered in the lanternlight like crystal under clear water. “Then you lie,” she said slowly. “And I am done with your lies.” She turned and strode majestically toward her mare tethered at the corral. “And I am done with the Delaneys. I will not return here.”

She ignored the silent vaqueros as she mounted then walked the horse up to where Shamus, Patrick, and Joshua stood watching her. She looked down at Shamus. “What a fool you are, Shamus Delaney,” she said clearly. “Can you not see what you have lost in me?” She turned and kicked the mare into a gallop, her straight dark hair streaming behind her in a wild silken pennant as the mare stretched out in a dead run.

Patrick muttered a curse beneath his breath and took a step toward his horse.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Shamus asked sharply.

“After her,” Patrick said as he swung into the saddle. “She meant it, dammit.”

“No.” Shamus mounted his own horse.

Patrick frowned. “Gran-da, Silver shouldn’t-”

“I said no! I still run Killara and this family, don’t I?”

Patrick didn’t answer, gazing mutinously in the direction Silver had taken.

“Don’t I?” Shamus asked again with dangerous softness.

Patrick nodded jerkily. “But you’ve made a mistake.”

“And now children are teaching their elders,” Shamus drawled. “Next, young William will be telling me how to run my family.”

“I’m no youngster,” Patrick said, stung.

“Then concentrate on tracking Torres and on keeping him from killing your uncle.” Shamus kicked his horse, and the animal bounded forward. The vaqueros fell in behind him and the stableyard was suddenly filled with clouds of dust and churning earth.

“You’d better catch up with him.” It was Josh’s quiet voice beside Patrick. “It will be daybreak soon and he’ll need you when we reach the foothills.”

“He was wrong, Josh.”

Joshua’s hand grasped Patrick’s shoulder in silent support. Then the reassuring touch was gone and Joshua was gone, too, moving through the column of vaqueros to ride beside his brothers and Shamus.

Patrick could feel a little of the tension drain from him. Joshua always had that effect on him. Since he was a