Eve watched while Reno handed over one slim metal stick and kept the other. They indeed looked like needles when held in the men’s large hands.
Large, but not clumsy. Reno and Caleb had unusually fine coordination. Eve had seen both men use their fingers with the delicate precision of a butterfly landing on a flower.
Indeed, very quickly Caleb had matched the flattened notch on his needle with the one on Reno’s. Keeping them barely touching was more difficult. Even so, it was only a moment before Caleb mastered it.
«See. Nothing to it,» Caleb said.
«Uh-huh,» drawled Reno. «Now let’s take a walk around the table.»
Caleb gave him a startled look. «With the needles touching?»
«Every step of the way,» Reno said. «Just kissing, mind you. No shoving.»
A grunt was Caleb’s only answer. The two men stood, matched needles, and looked at each other.
«On three,» Caleb said. «One…two…three.»
They took a step.
Instantly the small rods separated.
The second time, Caleb tried applying more pressure when he took a step.
The rods crossed like swords.
The third time the men tried, the rods clashed, slipped, and drew apart.
«Damn,» Caleb said.
He flipped the dowsing rod end over end on his palm several times, then shot it toward Reno without warning.
Reno’s free hand flashed out and snagged the flying needle. With no break in the motion, he flipped a rod in each hand like a circus juggler.
Whatever the problem in using the rods, lack of dexterity on the part of the men wasn’t it.
«Good thing you’ve read enough geology books to stock a university,» Caleb said. «Those needles are as useless as teats on a boar hog.»
Eve’s hand shot out, catching one of the dowsing rods as it somersaulted obediently above Reno’s palm.
«May I?» she asked calmly.
The question was unnecessary. She had already leveled the forked end of the rod in Reno’s direction. The metal stick was balanced between her palm and her thumb, so lightly held that a breath could sway the metal.
Reno hesitated, shrugged, and carelessly pointed the forked end of his rod toward her. He held the rod as she did, balancing it between his palm and his thumb.
Eve moved her hand slightly. The notches met, brushed, and came back together like lodestone and iron.
As they caught and held each other, a ghostly current rippled through the rods to the flesh holding them, startling both people.
With a gasp, Eve let go of her needle. So did Reno.
Caleb caught both pieces of metal before they hit the floor. Giving Eve and Reno an odd look, Caleb returned the rods to them.
«Something wrong?» he asked.
«I was clumsy,» Eve said quickly. «I knocked the rods together.»
«Didn’t look clumsy to me,» Caleb said.
Reno said nothing. He simply watched Eve through narrowed green eyes.
«Let me try it this time,» Reno said.
Eve positioned her needle and held still. «Ready.»
Reno brought his rod close, then closer, then closer still, brushing the prongs and then the cup of the Y on the end of Eve’s Y.
Ghostly currents rippled.
This time Reno and Eve managed to hold on to the rods, but their breath came in hard and fast. Even that small a motion should have jerked the needles apart.
It didn’t.
«On three,» Reno said.
His voice was unusually deep, a sound like black velvet. The tone was a caress as intangible and undeniable as the subtle currents flowing through the Spanish needles, stitching together two halves of an enigmatic whole.
«Yes,» Eve whispered.
Reno counted. As one, they took a step forward.
The prongs interlocked yet moved readily, as though faintly magnetized.
Deliberately Reno jerked his hand. Instantly the needles came apart.
«Again,» he said.
The needles came to each other as though alive, eager, hungry for the fragile currents that would both join and define them.
«I will be damned,» Reno whispered.
He looked up from the oddly shimmering needles to the woman whose eyes were the color of purest gold.
And he wondered what it would be like to be buried within Eve, feeling her shiver as delicately and as completely as the two rods touching, two halves interlocked, moving freely, joined by currents of fire.
8
Long before first light, Eve was awake, dressed, and sneaking quietly out of the house. Carrying her saddlebags and bedroll, she headed for the barn. She expected to find Reno already there, getting the horses ready, for she had heard Caleb get up earlier and leave the silent house. A few minutes later she had caught the faint rumble of men’s voices coming from the barn.
Despite the fact that Eve had slept little the night before, she had been too restless to stay in the Blacks’ guest room a moment longer. She had told herself she was simply excited at starting the hunt for gold that had both possessed and eluded generation after generation of the Leon family.
Yet it wasn’t gold that had haunted Eve’s waking dreams. It was the memory of two dowsing rods touching and ghostly currents flowing.
The barn door was open. Just outside, two tall men were working over four horses. A lantern suspended on a nearby corral pole glowed pale gold against the fading darkness of night.
As Eve quietly approached, she could hear Caleb talking.
«…coming down out of the high country. Most of them are too busy moving to winter camp to be a problem, but keep a sharp eye out. The warriors are raising hell with the army, and the shamans are all off looking for a powerful new vision.»
Reno grunted.
«And then there’s the rest of it,» Caleb continued.
«The rest of what?»
«Oh, I just feel that as your friend — and brother-in-law — I should warn you what can happen when a man takes a pretty girl into wild country,» Caleb drawled.
«Save your breath,» Reno said. Then, dryly, «Not you, Darlin’. If you hold your breath, you’re going to find my knee in your belly right quick.»
Eve smiled. She had learned on the trail that Reno’s mustang had a sly way of sucking in a lot of air before the cinch was tightened, then letting it out afterward. If Reno hadn’t been aware of the mare’s little trick, he would have found himself riding upside down half the time.
Leather slid over leather with a rushing sound as Reno drew his mare’s cinch strap up tight. She snorted and stamped her foot in displeasure.
In the stillness of predawn, each sound was unnaturally clear.
«All the same,» Caleb said, «I took a job guiding a pretty girl into the San Juans to find her brother, and I ended up married.»
Leather snapped against leather as Reno tied off the mare’s cinch with smooth, strong motions.
«Willow was one thing,» Reno said finally. «Eve is a horse of an entirely different color.»
«Not that different. Sure, her hair is darker than Willow’s, and her eyes are gold rather than hazel, but —»
«That’s not what I’m talking about,» Reno interrupted curtly.
«You remind me of a mustang stud feeling a rope for the first time in his wild life,» Caleb said.
Amusement rippled plainly in his voice.
Reno grunted.
Laughing aloud, Caleb settled a pack saddle onto a wiry little bay. The bay’s thick mane fell to its shoulders, and the tail was so long it left marks on the dusty ground.
Another bay mustang stood patiently beside the first. The two animals were twins. Because it was hard to tell them apart, they were simply called Shaggy One and Shaggy Two, depending on which horse was closer to the speaker at the time. The geldings were inseparable. Where one went, the other followed.
The second Shaggy was already fully loaded. In addition to the usual trail gear, there were large, empty canteens and two small barrels of black powder tied on either side of the pack saddle.