The other two men looked like gamblers, judging by their frock coats, brocade vests, snappy black hats and expensive pocket watches that dangled from gold fobs. Eva reminded herself that gamblers were a nickel a dozen in the area. They frequented saloons that catered to miners. One look at the rings on Frank Albers’s and Irving Jarmon’s fingers suggested their hapless opponents at gaming tables had lost their bets and paid their debts by surrendering their jewelry.

Irving Jarmon had a long, horselike face and large horselike front teeth. His tuft of hair reminded Eva of a horse’s mane. Frank Albers was average height and slim build. His blond head seemed too large for his thin-bladed shoulders.

Frank Albers and Irving Jarmon—if those were their real names—claimed they were headed to Mineral Wells, before venturing to the mining towns in Devil’s Triangle. According to reports, visitations to the numerous bawdy houses, gaming halls and saloons were the order of the day in Mineral Wells.

She wondered if that’s where she’d find Gordon Carter—con man, shyster and God knew what else. She suspected he planned to lay low in the isolated mining camps before reappearing in society to fleece another young, unsuspecting heiress.

“Stage stop ahead. We’ll exchange horses,” George Knott called down from his perch.

Eva stirred on the bench seat, eager for a reprieve from the jostling ride that left her posterior numb and cut off the circulation in her arms, which were jammed between Raven’s broad shoulders and Frank’s narrow ones.

The instant the coach rolled to a stop, a plume of dust rose around it. Like a great cat surging to its feet, Raven exited then pivoted to clamp his hands around Eva’s waist. The instant he touched her, strange fissions of heat rippled through her body. Stunned, she glanced into his hypnotic eyes as he slowly, deliberately lowered her to the ground.

Eva cleared her throat. “Thank you, dear.”

“Anything for you, my sweet,” he purred. “We’ll partake of a cool refreshing drink and enjoy a private moment alone.”

Eva wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him just yet. He might strangle her and toss her behind a tree as a snack for wolves, mountain lions and such. Nevertheless, he clamped hold of her hand and strode off swiftly, forcing her to scurry to keep up with his long-legged strides.

The reckoning, she predicted as he led her out of earshot. She expected him to chew her up one side and down the other—and he was entitled because she felt a little guilty about the deception. But she wasn’t one to give up easily. Especially when it came to an important cause like avenging Lydia’s shame and recovering Hodge and the money Gordon had extorted.

Her thoughts trailed off when she noticed the unhitched buggy sitting behind the stage station. Eva thrust out her free hand excitedly. “That’s it!” She set her feet, only to be uprooted by Raven’s superior strength. “That’s my sister’s carriage. Gordon has been here.”

“Good for Gordon and good for you for finding the first piece of the puzzle,” Raven muttered caustically. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I have a few choice comments to make to you. And be warned, none of them are very nice.”

When he halted by the creek, she was surprised that he allowed her time to cup her hands and sip the refreshing drink of cool water from the stream before he launched into his scathing lecture. Apparently, he wanted to wet his whistle, too, before he laid into her.

Rising, he fisted his hands on his hips and widened his stance. His thick brows swooped into a sharp V and he glowered ominously at her. “You think you pulled a fast one on me because I didn’t call your bluff, don’t you, Eva? If that truly is your name.”

“It is,” she confirmed. “What does J.D. stand for?”

“Jordan Daniel.”

“Your white father’s name,” she presumed.

“Yes, not that it’s your concern,” he snapped curtly.

“Jo-Dan,” she mused aloud. “That’s the pet name I’ll use for you.”

His bearded face puckered in a scowl. “No, you won’t. I hate it. Furthermore, I’m not taking this case, even if you did spring for my hotel room. I pay my own way. Always have. I’ll not be kept by a female.”

“It was the least I could do since I interrupted your evening.” She smirked. “After all, I did interrupt your designs on your whiskey bottle. Any of it left, by the way?”

“Yes.” He waved her into silence. “Now listen, lady, this marriage you concocted is a bad idea. In order to remedy that problem, we are about to stage a big argument and you aren’t going to speak to me again.

“I’m going my way to my mountain cabin to train a new horse and you’re going to Canyon Springs…or wherever,” he instructed. “Our disagreement should gain you sympathy from the driver, guard and passengers. Especially if you work up a few crocodile tears. After I abandon you, you can annul this pretended marriage by waving your magic wand of a parasol.”