Eve’s eyes widened.
«I wouldn’t hurt you,» he added.
Gently his hands circled her throat. His thumbs found the points where blood flowed into her brain.
«A bit of pressure and you’ll faint,» Reno said calmly. «You’ll wake up within seconds, but you’ll be on the other side by then.»
«You can’t carry me over that,» she protested.
«You’re like a cat. Sleek and lithe. But for all their speed and grace, cats don’t weigh much.»
Reno stood, pulling Eve to her feet and then off them in a smooth, easy motion. He shifted his grip, holding her balanced against his hip with one arm. It all happened so quickly, she didn’t have time to draw a breath.
Eve’s eyes widened in shock as she realized how much of Reno’s strength he had kept in check when he touched her. She had always known he was stronger than she was. She just hadn’t known how much stronger. An odd, strangled sound escaped her lips.
Reno frowned.
«I didn’t mean to frighten you,» he said.
«It’s not that,» she said faintly.
He waited, watching her.
«It’s just…» Eve made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. «I’m used to being the strong one.»
There was a long silence while Reno held Eve and thought about what she had said. Slowly he nodded. It explained a lot, including why she hadn’t told him how close to the end of her rope she was. It simply hadn’t occurred to her. She was used to being with people who had less strength and stamina than she did, not more.
«And I’m used to traveling alone,» Reno said. «I’ve pushed you too hard. I’m sorry.»
Carefully he set Eve on her feet again.
«Can you walk?» he asked.
Eve sighed and nodded.
One of Reno’s arms slid around her waist.
«Tired littlegata. Put you arm around me and lean. It’s not far.»
«I can —»
Abruptly Reno’s hand came down over Eve’s mouth, shutting off her words.
«Quiet,» he whispered against her ear. «Someone is coming.»
Eve froze and strained to hear beyond the wild beating of her heart.
Reno was right. The lazy breeze was carrying the sound of someone cursing savagely.
«Damnation,» hissed Reno. «Get down!»
Eve had no choice about it. He had her pressed on her stomach against the rock before she could blink.
«Keep your head down,» he said in a very soft voice. «They won’t be able to see you until they’re at the top of the slope above us.»
Reno took off his hat, handed Eve the canteen, and drew his gun. She watched as he began crawling on his stomach up the ten-foot slickrock incline.
On the other side were three Comancheros leading wiry mustangs. They were headed straight for Reno. Crooked Bear was in the lead. He spotted Reno immediately. When the Comanchero shouted, bullets started whining and ricocheting off the pale stone, sending sharp chips of rock flying.
Instantly Reno returned the fire, picking targets with care, for the range was better suited to a rifle than to a six-gun. There wasn’t much cover, but the Comancheros made good use of every irregularity. They flattened themselves in the shallow basins, dove behind hardy pinon, or threw their bodies into one of the many cracks on the seamed surface of the slickrock.
Unfortunately, all except Crooked Bear were beyond the range of Reno’s six-gun. The Comanchero took a bullet in his arm, but the wound wasn’t bad. The most it would do was slow the big Indian down a bit.
Reno slithered back down the slope to Eve and pulled her to her feet.
«They’ll stay put, but not for long,» he said. «Get ready to run.»
Eve wanted to object that she couldn’t run, but a look at Reno’s jade green eyes made her change her mind. His fingers wrapped around her right arm just below the shoulder.
«Three steps, then jump,» he said.
There was no time for Eve to waver or worry. Reno was thrusting her forward. She took three running steps and jumped like a doe. He was right beside her, flying over the black channel, landing, holding her upright when her foot slipped. Seconds later they were running flat out over the slick-rock.
Eve had never moved so fast before in her life. Reno’s powerful hand was clamped around her arm, lifting her, hurtling her forward, then lifting her again the instant her feet touched the ground.
They were almost to the horses when rifle bullets began crashing and whining around them, screaming off the slickrock. Reno made no attempt to take cover. He simply tightened his grip on Eve and ran faster toward the ravine ahead. He knew their best chance of survival lay in reaching the ravine where the horses were hidden before Slater’s Comancheros reloaded their single-shot rifles.
Breath tore in and out of Eve’s lungs as she sprinted beside Reno, captive to the iron grip on her arm. Just when she thought she could run no farther, a bullet ricocheted nearby. She ran faster than before, trusting Reno to catch her if she stumbled.
Suddenly the rock sloped away beneath their feet. Together Eve and Reno skidded down the steep incline. The mustangs snorted and shied with alarm as he threw her into her saddle, vaulted onto his own horse, and headed up the ravine at a gallop.
All too soon the way began to narrow and climb steeply toward yet another slickrock terrace. Reno kept the horses pointed uphill, not stopping even when the way became so narrow that stirrups scraped against stone. Scrambling and clawing like cats, the agile mustangs climbed through stony debris.
Abruptly they were in the clear. A wide mesa opened up before them. Reno didn’t stop to congratulate himself on their good luck at not finding themselves smack up against a slickrock cliff. He spun the blue roan around and raced back to the Shaggy that carried the small barrels. He jerked one barrel free, grabbed a leather sack from the back saddle, and turned to Eve.
«I’m going to try to close the trail,» he said curtly. «Take the horses about a hundred yards up the draw and hobble them.»
She grabbed Darlin’s reins, kicked the dun, and took off up the shallow, grassy ravine that drained the plateau. The two Shaggies followed. A scant one hundred yards later, Eve threw herself off the dun, hobbled her, and ran back to Darlin’. The mustang snorted in alarm but was too tired to bite when strange hands slapped hobbles around her forelegs. The two Shaggies were already cropping grass eagerly. They were hobbled before they knew what had happened.
Eve yanked the repeating rifle out of Reno’s saddle scabbard, grabbed her own shotgun, and ran back to where Reno worked at the lip of the plateau.
«Can you see them yet?» she asked breathlessly.
He spun toward her in surprise. «What are you doing here? I told you to —»
«They’re hobbled,» Eve interrupted.
«They better be, or we’ll be afoot.»
Reno bent over the ground once more. Working quickly, he poured black powder into a second tin can.
«What are you doing?» she asked.
«Getting set to bring a chunk of slickrock down around those boys’ ears.»
The sound of voices came up the ravine.
«Hell’s fire, but they’re fast,» muttered Reno. «Can you shoot a rifle?»
«Better than a six-gun.»
«Good. Keep those Comancheros pinned down while I finish. Leave the shotgun with me.»
As Eve started for the lip of the mesa with Reno’s rifle, he grabbed her.
«Keep down,» Reno ordered in a low, hard voice. «Go on your stomach for the last few yards. There are three of them, and they don’t have a repeating rifle, but it takes only one bullet to put you six feet under.»
Eve crawled to the lip of the mesa and stared down the narrow ravine. No men were in sight yet, but their voices carried clearly, as did the sound of hooves on stone.