Fear caught and held Jane asshe saw the scenes flying by and realized everything she had ever known wasvanishing before her eyes.
"Want to go back?"
She looked up to see herfath—Patrick standing beside her, his expression hopeful. "I can send youhome once we reach the next stop."
"No."
"Last chance."
Promontory Point vanished fromview as if it had never been, and suddenly her fear also vanished."No." She did not really know much about homes, but she was sureFrenchie's had never been one. Her father was a railroad man who moved fromplace to place, so perhaps this puffing, roaring dragon they were riding wouldbe her home from then on. If so, she must learn everything about it and make ither own. Yes, that was what she must do; her father loved the railroad and itmust become as much a part of her as it was of him.
She settled gingerly back onthe hard seat and deliberately tried to relax her tense muscles. "I'm notgoin' back. I was just a little scared for a minute, but I'm all rightnow."
He muttered something beneathhis breath and dropped onto the seat next to her.
She closed her eyes andlistened to the rumble of the wheels on the iron track. Slowly, gradually, shebecame aware of a rhythm in the metal clatter like the beat of a giant heart, acadence in the hissing of the steam that was vaguely soothing. Perhaps thedragon wasn't so fierce after all. Perhaps, in time, he would let her befriendhim and learn all his secrets...
Chapter1
Krugerville, Africa
April 3, 1876
Ruel reminded Ian of abeautiful tiger set to pounce.
Ruel's right hand gripped abone-handled knife with deadly competence, and an eager smile curved his lips.Stripped to the waist, his muscles gleaming gold-bronze in the lantern light,blue eyes blazing with fierce joy, he circled the huge mulatto holding themachete.
Shock jolted through IanMacClaren as he peered through the smoke layering the air of the bar at the twomen squaring off across the room. Somehow he had not expected Ruel to look solethal. Yet the reports he had received over the years should have given himsome warning, and even as a boy Ruel had never been tame. Certainly no trace oftameness lingered in his brother now.
Tiger pad softly, tigerburn bright…
The scrap of an old versepopped into Ian's mind, underscoring the impression that had leapt into beingthe instant he had caught sight of Ruel. The boy had always burned with arestless, volatile energy, but now he cast out an almost incandescent vitality.Time had honed and hardened the faultless symmetry of the face Margaret had oncedescribed as having the beauty of a fallen angel, but it still held theriveting magnetism it had always possessed. Strands of tawny white-gold lacedthe dark brown hair he wore tied back in a queue, adding to the tigerishquality of his appearance.
The mulatto suddenly slicedout with the machete.
Ruel easily avoided the parryand gave a low, pleased laugh. "At last. You were beginning to bore me,Barak."
"Don't just standthere." The woman, Mila, grabbed Ian's arm. "You said if I broughtyou to him, you would help. Barak will kill him."
"He certainly appears tobe trying," Ian murmured. He had been told when he had arrived in town afew hours earlier that she was only one of the gold camp's whores, but she wasclearly emotionally involved with Ruel. The circumstance did not astonish him.Drawn by those wicked good looks and careless, joyous paganism, women hadgravitated to Ruel's bed before he had reached puberty. However, Ian wassurprised he felt no fear the woman's prophecy would prove true. This Baraktowered almost seven feet and his bull-like musculature made Ruel'sfive-foot-eleven physique appear childlike in comparison. Yet Ian felt Ruelwould have no more trouble defeating him than he had the bullies who hadtaunted his brother as a child. "I believe we'll wait and watch awhile.Ruel never liked me to interfere in these matters."
The giant mulatto made anotherlunge, and Ruel's torso arched catlike as the blade just missed digging intohis belly.
"Better," Ruellaughed. "But not good enough. God, you're clumsy."
Barak roared with anger andlunged again.
But Ruel was no longer there.
He had danced with lightningswiftness to the left, and a red slash suddenly appeared on Barak's side."As clumsy with the machete as you are at dealing from the bottom of thedeck I could teach you a bit about both." He circled the huge man with thequickness of a mongoose with a cobra. "But I don't really think it wouldbe worthwhile. I hate to waste my time, when you'll be dead soon anyway."
Ian stiffened, jarred back tothe realization that this was no childhood fight that would end only with blackeyes and scraped knuckles. He turned to the woman. "I think we'd better goget the local magistrate to stop this."
She gazed at him inbewilderment. "Magistrate?"
"The law," he saidimpatiently.
"There's no lawhere," she said."Youmust stop it. Barak wants Ruel's claim.He cheated only to make Ruel angry enough to fight so he could kill him."
