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“Adam, I want to go with you.”
    Adam still ignored her. He was too anxious to resume ties with his old friend, and not only for friendship’s sake, but hoping to find an ally in this friend who was, by birth, white. He mounted his brown mare bareback and rode hard toward the two waiting Navaho.
    As hell-bent on meeting the Navaho as Adam, Stephanie also bridled her horse in the cattle car, then led the chestnut stallion out and mounted him bareback. Gripping the reins with sure hands, she rode after Adam.
    When she finally reached her stepbrother, he had already drawn up beside Runner.
    Runner raised an eyebrow as Adam sidled his horse closer to his stallion, seeing something familiar about the man, but could not place him. His gaze shifted when Stephanie came and drew rein beside the white man.
    Memories rushed over him of white women of his past: his true mother and her friends. He had been young when he had been living among the white community, but he could recall seeing such lovely women as this, with their ivory skin, supple and slender figures, glowing cheeks, sparkling eyes, and full, ripe mouths.
    Even this far from the woman he could smell a sweet perfume wafting toward him, reminding him of the perfumes his mother had worn.
    But even though he could recall those women long ago, and seeing Leonida every day now, and thinking them all so beautiful, this woman was even more than his wildest dreams could conjure up. She was more lovely than any that he had ever seen before.
    She had an entrancingly curved mouth. Her eyes were as smoky gray as the spring sage on the mountain slopes. Her feathery dark lashes flared widely so that they cast shadows on the pale skin beneath, and her hair was a magnificent torch of copper.
    She was a picture of feminine daintiness, the snug fit of the bodice of her traveling suit emphasizing a tiny waist and high bosom.
    The more he looked at her, the more she caused him to realize that he had been without someone to share his nights with him for far too long. Her mere presence was setting little fires throughout his body. And he could not allow such feelings.
    In a sense, this woman was an enemy, an enemy of the Navaho.
    â€œTrevor?”
    Hearing the name of his youth being spoken by the white man made Runner jerk his eyes back to the man. Only people of his past knew the name that he had been given on the day of his birth.
    He looked at the white man more closely and began seeing something familiar about him. This close, he could see the features of his boyhood friend—Adam.
    â€œAdam?” Runner said, his voice low and measured.
    â€œRunner, it is you,” Adam said, reaching over to give Runner a fierce, manly hug. “It’s really you.”
    Runner returned the embrace, feeling awkward. He saw the woman as an enemy; he could feel no less for Adam. It was obvious that Adam was involved with the expansion of the railroad, or he would not have been there.
    Across Adam’s shoulder, Runner looked at Stephanie again, finding it hard to continue labeling her as the enemy. He silently studied the gentle loveliness of her face and the breathtaking color of her hair and eyes.
    Remembering again the differences in their beliefs where the railroad was concerned, he quickly shifted his eyes away from her and eased away from Adam.
    â€œAnd Sage?” Adam said, leaning so that he could look around Runner. “It’s so good to see you again.”
    Sage’s lips were pursed tightly. He refused to give this man of his past a greeting that would be the same as speaking with a forked tongue. Although he was happy to see the boy of his past now turned into a young man, he would not allow his happiness to show. Adam was bringing trouble to the Navaho. His presence on the train made that fact evident.
    Adam’s eyes wavered. He looked clumsily over at Runner, then at Stephanie. “I would like to introduce my stepsister to you,” he said,