Yet it was Willow’s only silk dress. She had worn it because she expected to meet a gentleman who would appreciate her gesture toward a more gracious time. She hadn’t expected an unshaven gunfighter who would note only the bad fit of her clothes. Her chin came up slightly as she faced the man who so obviously didn’t like her.

«The war is over, Mr. Black.»

«And you lost.»

Willow closed her eyes, then opened them. «Yes.»

The husky admission surprised Caleb, as did the sudden darkening of Willow’s hazel eyes. Surprise at finding that his quarry, Matthew «Reno» Moran, had a wife was giving way to the suspicion that the young woman with the tight dress and frankly sensual mouth was not quite what she represented herself to be. Reno’swoman, surely. But his wife? Probably not. Nothing Caleb had learned about Reno since he began hunting him indicated that Reno was the marrying kind.

Caleb looked Willow over again, taking his time, watching the color rise once more in her cheeks. The blush piqued his curiosity. Females like Willow couldn’t afford emotions or pride, yet it was apparent she had both.

Not for the first time, Caleb wondered what her so-called husband was like — what kind of fine southern gentleman could both seduce an innocent like Caleb’s sister Rebecca and inspire such passion in an experienced young thing like Willow that she was willing to pursue her missing man to the heart of the untamed West.

With a shrug that made muscles shift and coil beneath the dark trail clothes Caleb wore, he dismissed his own curiosity. It didn’t matter that Willow was probably a Miss rather than a Mrs. Nor did it matter what the elusive Matthew «Reno» Moran was like. Caleb had been looking for his sister Rebecca’s seducer for eleven months.

When he found Reno, he would kill him.

«Shall we go?» Caleb asked. «Or have you changed your mind about finding your…husband, is it?»