Startled, Eve looked up so quickly her head nearly knocked against Caleb’s.
Reno stared at her, his green eyes shimmering with an anger that had grown every time he glanced out of the bedroom and saw the dark gold of Eve’s hair brushing against the thick black of Caleb’s hair as they pored over the journals.
Reno’s anger came as no surprise to Eve. He had been furious with her ever since Willow had insisted that they stay for supper and the night.
What did surprise Eve was the baby gurgling happily in Reno’s muscular arms. It occurred to her that she had rarely seen Reno without his nephew in the hours since they had arrived.
In a man as gentle and giving as her father had been, such pleasure in a baby wouldn’t have surprised Eve. In a man like Reno, it was a revelation that astonished Eve every time it occurred. Nothing in her past had prepared her for it. The hard men she had known were just that — hard. They used their strength for their own ends, and the devil take the hindmost.
Unfortunately, Reno reserved the gentle side of his nature for his family, period. Eve had no illusions that a saloon girl would get the benefit of his relaxed teasing and flashing, beguiling smiles. Nor would she get the benefit of the protective love that he extended to his sister.
Reno was obviously furious with Eve for insinuating herself into Willow’s house and Caleb’s courtesy. Eve knew it each time she looked up and saw Reno watching her with fierce green eyes.
At least he was careful not to let Willow or Caleb see his anger. Not that Eve thought Reno’s restraint was for her benefit. He just wanted to avoid raising any questions he didn’t want to answer about saloon girls and his sister’s home.
«Is that where we’re headed?» Eve asked Reno. «The Colorado River?»
«I hope not,» Reno said curtly. «I’ve heard the Spanish knew a shortcut between here and the Abajos. If they did — and we find it — we’ll cut several weeks off our travel time.»
Caleb muttered something under his breath about fools, lost mines, and a maze of canyons that had no name.
Oblivious to all, Ethan leaned forward and made a swipe at the bright scarf that was holding Eve’s loose chignon in place. When he missed, he protested. Loudly.
«Bedtime,» called Willow from the kitchen.
Eve slid the scarf from her hair. Immediately her chignon came undone, sending a cascade of dark golden hair down her back. She caught up her hair and bound it in a loose knot. Then she deftly reshaped the scarf into a doll with a knot for a head, other knots for arms, and a flaring skirt below.
«Here you are, sugar man,» she whispered to Ethan. «I know how lonely those nights can be.»
The baby’s hand closed around the doll with surprising strength. He waved it and crowed happily.
Though Eve had meant her words to be too soft for anyone but the baby to hear, Reno did. His eyes narrowed as he searched Eve’s face for any sign that she was trying to get his sympathy. He saw only the gentleness that came over her expression whenever Ethan looked at her and cooed his delight.
Frowning, Reno looked away and reminded himself that all women — even conniving saloon girls — had softness in their hearts when it came to babies.
Willow came out of the kitchen, took Ethan, and headed for the bedroom. Immediately the coos became unhappy cries.
«I don’t mind walking him around the room for a while,» Reno offered.
«If he’s still crying in a few minutes,» Willow said firmly.
«How about if I sing him to sleep?»
Willow laughed and gave in. «It’s a good thing you’re going gold hunting. You spoil your nephew shamelessly.»
Smiling, Reno followed his sister into the bedroom. A few moments later, the gentle strains of a hymn floated out into the room, sung by Reno’s fine baritone. Willow’s clear soprano joined in a few moments later in flawless harmony.
Eve’s breath came in with surprise and pleasure.
«Had the same effect on me the first time I heard them,» Caleb said. «Their brother Rafe sings like a fallen angel, too. I’ve never met the other three brothers, but I imagine they’re the same.»
«Think of sitting next to them in church. …»
Caleb laughed. «Something tells me the Moran boys ran more to fighting than to sitting in church.»
Absently Eve smiled, but it was the voices that claimed her attention. Music had been one of the few pleasures in the orphanage, and had been practiced under the demanding yet patient choirmaster from the nearby church.
Eyes closed, Eve began humming to herself. She didn’t know the particular verse they were singing, but the tune was familiar. Automatically she took the counterpoint, letting her smoky alto voice weave through the simple harmony created by brother and sister.
After a few minutes, the music claimed Eve, making her forget where she was. Her voice soared, skimming between the light of Willow’s soprano and the deep shadow of Reno’s baritone, enriching both like a rainbow stretched between sunlight and storm, radiant with all the hopes of man.
Eve didn’t realize what she had done until the harmony stopped abruptly, leaving her voice alone. Her eyes snapped open.
She found herself being stared at by Caleb, Reno, and Willow. Color rose in Eve’s cheeks.
«Forgive me. I didn’t mean to —»
«Don’t be a goose,» Willow interrupted quickly. «Where on earth did you learn that gorgeous harmony?»
«The church choirmaster.»
«Could you teach Caleb to play that on the harmonica?»
«No time,» Reno cut in. «We’ve got journals to work on tonight, and we’re leaving at first light tomorrow.»
Willow blinked at the roughness in her brother’s voice. It hadn’t escaped her that Reno was reluctant to involve Eve in his family. Willow couldn’t imagine why.
The look in Reno’s eyes told her not to ask.
«I found where the journals cross,» Caleb said into the uncomfortable silence.
«Good,» Reno said.
«I doubt it,» Caleb said dryly.
«Why?»
«It leaves you with half the West to explore for gold.»
Reno took the chair on the other side of Eve and sat down.
Bracketed by the two men, Eve felt frankly petite. As she was every bit of five feet, three and one-half inches tall, the feeling was unusual; most of the men she met were barely a hand taller than she was.
Trying not to touch either of the pair of wide shoulders she was wedged between, Eve reached for the old Spanish journal.
So did Reno. Their hands collided. Both jerked back with a muttered word — an apology in Eve’s case and a curse in Reno’s.
Caleb looked away so that neither of his companions would see the broad smile on his face. He had a good idea what was making Reno so touchy. Wanting a particular woman very badly and not having her had been known to shorten the tempers of men much more easygoing than Reno Moran.
And Reno looked like a man who was wanting a particular woman. Badly.
«Now,» Caleb said, clearing his throat, «you say the Cristobal expedition came up from Santa Fe to Taos. …»
«Yes,» Eve said quickly.
She reached for the journal once more, hoping that the slight tremor in her fingers didn’t show.
Her skin burned where Reno had touched it.
«Some of the early expeditions went past the Sangre de Cristos and into the San Juans before turning west,» Eve said in a carefully controlled voice.
As she spoke, she turned pages, tracing routes on maps that had been drawn by men long dead.
«They crossed through the mountains about…»
She turned to Caleb’s journal.
«…here. They must have passed very close to this ranch.»
«Wouldn’t surprise me,» Caleb said. «We’re on the flats, and only a fool climbs mountains.»