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spine, which would possibly interfere with his circulation…and then kill him. An operation might help, they said, but they knew so little about conditions like Charles’s that any attempt at surgery would be strictly experimental and very dangerous. And, of course, very expensive.
    There was no money for anything like that, even if they’d wanted to take the risk. They had barely existed on what their father earned as caretaker of the deBonnett estate, and the largest benefit wasn’t money at all, but the tiny house on the grounds of the estate where they were allowed to live without having to pay any rent. Since their father’s death last year, Briana had been afraid they’d be asked to leave the cottage.
    Briana was desolate. What did the future hold for her now? She was going to lose her dearest friend, Dani, and when Dani went away, Briana would be utterly alone. Worse, there was no way she could remain in that household after Dani left. Alaina had a terrible temper, and Gavin would only become more intolerable. She felt like weeping whenever she looked around the worn little two-room cottage. It was all the home she’d ever had. Did she really have to leave it? She guessed she would, sooner or later.
    And where would she, a single female with a crippled ten-year-old brother, be able to go?
    She reflected miserably that she had no money. Alaina gave her food and a pittance. And there were no other jobs in the area that would pay her even that. She could not care for herself and Charles.
    Sitting disconsolately in that room, she realized slowly that there might not be a choice. She might have to yield to Gavin’s demands. If there were only herself to consider, she knew she would rather starve. But Charles had no one else. Dear Lord, without her, Charles would be forced to beg for food, and would probably die.
    No. She stood up angrily and flicked the dust cloth across the heavy mahogany furniture. She could not let Charles beg. Other women supported themselves by becoming prostitutes, and if she had to, then so be it. Besides, wasn’t there more honor in submitting to one man than in bedding many? Gavin would take care of her, and she would take care of Charles. She could stand Gavin’s cruelty, and Alaina’s, if it meant a decent life for her little brother.
    Tears began. Were it not for Charles, she knew she would die before giving herself to a man for any reason other than love. But fate, Briana had learned long ago, dictates a person’s morality.
    She paused and looked wistfully out the window to the sea, where late-afternoon sunlight rippled through the cobalt waters. The surface danced with diamonds of sparkling light. For her, she mused, the sun was truly setting.

Chapter Three
    Silver Butte, Nevada
    July, 1889
    Colt sat behind the large mahogany desk, gazing balefully at all the papers in front of him. His mother had always taken care of Coltrane business matters. His father hated what he called “inside chores”. Colt concurred. He’d much rather have been outdoors, doing nearly anything else.
    He reached for the bottle of brandy and poured another glass, reminding himself that these chores were his now—along with every other Coltrane responsibility, now that his parents had left for France.
    He sipped the brandy and looked around the study. The rest of the two-story house reflected his mother’s taste, but the study was strictly his father’s. It was filled with comfortable sofas and chairs, plain draperies at the long windows, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with Travis’s war memorabilia. A stone fireplace ran the entire length of one wall.
    There were trophies mounted here and there, souvenirs of many hunting trips. Colt’s mother had hated those, he recalled. She said every time she walked into the study she felt the sad, forlorn eyes of the deer looking directly at her for sympathy.
    He leaned back in the soft leather chair and propped his booted feet on the desk. He’d spent