Yet he had. Without the dangerous card game to distract Eve, she was even more curious about him than she had been when he first sat down and took cards in the poker game.

Reno ran the pearls through his fingers one more time before he slipped them into a fawnskin bag and put them in his jacket pocket.

The next thing his fingers encountered in the saddlebag was a length of soft leather wrapped around something and tied with a worn leather thong. Curious, Reno pulled out the bundle and unwrapped it. Two long, slender metal rods with a notch in the blunt tips fell into his palm with a faintly musical sound.

Be damned, Reno thought. Spanish dowsing needles. Wonder if she’s skilled enough to use them.

Thoughtfully Reno wrapped up the large, blunt «needles» and put them back in the saddlebag.

The next thing his fingers encountered was the worn, dry leather of the Spanish journal. He opened it, flipped through it quickly to make certain it was the right one, and transferred it to his own saddlebags.

The rest of the contents of the girl’s saddlebag made Reno feel frankly uneasy about reclaiming his winnings from the pretty little cheat. All she had in her kit was a boy’s jacket, the scarlet dress, another dress made of flour sacks, and a boy’s ruffled white shirt and black pants. The gold ring was nowhere in sight. Nor was the handful of coins she had scooped up with the ring.

It was obvious she was way down on her luck. On the other hand…

«You keep moving your fingers toward that shotgun,» Reno said without looking up, «and I’m going to drag you out of that bedroll and teach you some manners.»

Eve froze, stunned. Until that instant she would have sworn the man hadn’t even known she was awake.

«Who are you?» she asked.

«Matt Moran.» As he spoke, he stuffed clothes back into the saddlebag. «But most folks call me Reno.»

Eve’s eyes widened to startled pools of gold. She had heard about the man called Reno. He was a gunfighter, but he never looked for battles. Nor did he hire out his lethal skills. He simply went his own way through the wild country, looking for placer gold during the high-mountain summers and for Spanish gold in the red hush of desert winter.