Nevada turned around with feline quickness. Narrowed, ice-green eyes focused on Ten.

"What female?" Nevada asked softly.

"The mama cougar, who else?" Ten said blandly as he poured gravy over his second serving of chicken. "We all know how worried you get over mothers." He winked at Mariah, who was at the moment very rounded out by her twins. "You always know women are pregnant before they do, and then you nag them like a maiden aunt to get them to take proper care of themselves. It's a wonder the human race ever got gestated without your help."

Nevada grunted.

Ten's wife, Diana, smiled at her plate. Carla, Mariah and Diana were all touched by Nevada's concern for them and their babies. It was so unexpected coming from a man as hard as Nevada was.

"Go ahead and check on that female again," Ten continued, carefully not looking at his brother, for Nevada wouldn't have missed the amused warmth in Ten's gray eyes. "We've got eleven hands now and two more coming tomorrow. Won't even miss you. Right, Luke?" Ten added as Luke walked in and sat down.

"Miss who?"

"My point exactly," Ten said.

Nevada looked sharply at his brother, saw only the top of a black head bent over a plateful of excellent food, and muttered something too low for Carla, Mariah or Diana to overhear.

A muffled cry came from the next room. Diana and Carla looked at each other as both pushed back from the table.

"Sit down, Diana," Nevada said. "I'll see what's bothering Carolina. Whatever it is isn't serious. You can tell by her cry."

Both Diana and Carla settled back into their chairs. Neither woman questioned Nevada's words, for they had quickly discovered that he had an uncanny ability to judge not only the identity of a child by its cry but also the urgency of the problem.

"Thanks," Diana said to Nevada's retreating back. Then, softly, she said to Ten, "Your brother is wasted as an uncle. He should have babies of his own to love."

Beneath the table Ten squeezed Diana's hand and said in a low voice, "Nevada's been through too many wars, honey. He doesn't trust life enough to risk loving a woman. And without love, there won't be any babies. The Blackthorns may be the bastard branch of the MacKenzie family, but we don't make babies with women we don't love." His thumb stroked over Diana's palm as he added wryly, "It just took me a while to figure that out in our case."

Diana smiled at Ten and laced her fingers through his.

Nevada's acute hearing had picked up every syllable of the conversation between Diana and her husband. Nevada didn't disagree with Ten's assessment of the Blackthorn clan. The day Nevada had discovered Diana could be pregnant and was definitely alone – because Ten was uncertain of his own ability to love – Nevada had taken his brother out to a lonely stretch of pasture and given him the fight Ten had been begging for since the day Diana had left the Rocking M.

It had been a learning experience for both men. One of the things they had learned was that the love of a brother for a brother was a lot deeper than either had suspected.

"Well, little lady," Nevada said, bending down over Carolina's playpen and lifting her into his arms. "You're as fat and sassy as a summer storm. You want to cloud up and rain all over me?"

Carolina had no such intention now that one of her favorite human beings was within reach. She made a cooing, crowing sound of triumph and grabbed Nevada's beard. He endured the rough caress for a time before gently disengaging her small, surprisingly strong fingers.

"Easy does it," he murmured, rubbing his beard against Carolina's small hands and cheeks. "You'll have me bald before you're a year old."

She laughed with delight and grabbed for the intriguing chin fur again. Nevada blew on Carolina's head teasingly, stirring her silky black hair, the legacy of her Blackthorn father. Her eyes were Diana's – a dark, astonishingly clear blue. Carolina's smile was unique, a smile like sunrise, a contagion of warmth. Holding Carolina, turning his shoulders slowly from side to side, Nevada spoke softly.

"Just lonely, huh?" Nevada murmured, his deep voice gentle, almost a purr. "Well, don't you worry, little darling. Logan's almost over the flu. In a few days he'll be back to stealing your toys. For now, though, he's out of commission. Guess you'll have to settle for me tonight. But your 'uncle' Cash should be back from Boulder by the weekend. He's an even bigger sucker for little girls than I am."

Carolina cooed. Thick black eyelashes swept down over brilliant blue eyes. She curled up against Nevada's chest, yawned, rubbed her ear with a small fist, and relaxed completely. Thirty seconds later she was asleep.

Nevada stood for a long time, cradling the little girl's head with his hand, rocking her very gently, remembering too many babies who had been born into a war-torn land, babies too weak even to cry out, babies he had found too late…

"You're going to spoil her," Ten said from the doorway, but his smile was as affectionate as his voice.

"My pleasure," Nevada said, looking down at his sleeping niece. "She's such a healthy, pretty little thing. Your hair and Diana's eyes."

"And your smile," Ten said softly. "But Luke and I are the only ones who know about that. We're the only ones who remember you from the time before you gave up smiling."

Nevada shrugged slightly. "That's what happens when you wrestle with the devil and lose."

"Is it? I wrestled. I lost. And I learned to smile again anyway."

"Then you're a fool, Tennessee. Any man who lets emotions affect him is a fool."

"Any man who doesn't is dead in all the ways that matter, and you damn well know it. That's why you're standing there holding Carolina."

"She's hardly more than a baby. She needs to be held, needs to know she's not alone, needs…" Nevada shrugged again. "She needs holding, that's all."

"So do adults. Sometimes we need it most of all."

"At over six feet, you're a little big for cuddling," Nevada said dryly.

"Don't tell that to the Rocking M women," Ten retorted. "Luke, Cash and I would hate like hell to give up our ration of cuddling!"

Carolina stirred, complained sleepily and burrowed closer to Nevada.

Ten looked at his watch. "Bedtime. Hand her over to Daddy."

Nevada shifted Carolina into her father's arms. She opened her eyes, approved her new transportation, and promptly went back to sleep. Ten kissed the silky black hair and headed for the stairway.

"Ten?"

"Yeah?" Ten asked softly without looking back.

"If you're sure you don't need me around here, I think I'll head for Wildfire Canyon early tomorrow."

"Happy hunting."

Only Carolina could have seen Ten's wide, knowing smile, and she was asleep.

"Would you miss one of the ranch trucks?" Nevada continued. "We – I lost the cat's tracks on a windy slope way back up a canyon. Even a dog couldn't track her there. It's too steep for a horse, so I might as well drive up that old logging road and work back down from there."

"Take the black truck. Take extra supplies. Take anything you need to get the job done right, including time. For once we're not shorthanded. In other words, don't hurry back."

Sensing the buried amusement in Ten's voice, Nevada watched closely as his brother disappeared up the stairway, carrying the utterly relaxed child.

Abruptly Nevada turned away and went to the bunkhouse. He packed what he would need, set his mental alarm clock for five hours of sleep and crawled into his cold bunk, trying not to remember what it had been like to hold Eden for just a few moments in his arms in an isolated cabin when she had been disturbed by his dark, unremembered dreams.

Nevada slept quickly. deeply, and he did not remember his dreams. Five hours later he awakened, dressed, and went to the black pickup truck. When he opened the door, a mйlange of fragrances greeted him – Carla's chocolate chip cookies and Mariah's fudge brownies, a sack of freshly baked biscuits and a kettle of hearty beef stew that would feed him for several days.

The corner of Nevada's mouth turned up as Ten's words came back to him: Don't tell that to the Rocking M women. Luke, Cash and I would hate like hell to give up our ration of cuddling!

Something told Nevada that the women enjoyed it, too.

*

By the time Nevada had negotiated the final washout on the abandoned logging road, he was beginning to wonder how Eden had managed the trip in the first place. If it hadn't been for the signs of her vehicle tracks, he would have sworn that no one had been over the road since the logging operation had been shut down a decade ago. In an emergency, it would be impossible to get to the cabin quickly – or to get away from it.

The anxiety that had been gnawing at Nevada ever since he had left Eden increased as the truck bumped and labored over the rutted, slushy track. He told himself there was no reason for him to be concerned about Eden's welfare. There had been no new storms, no word of strangers in the high country, nothing to set his mind to worrying. Even if there had been, Baby was a formidable bodyguard and Eden had been very much at home in the wild. Rationally, Nevada knew he didn't need to worry about her.

But he wasn't feeling very rational at the moment.

Eden haunted him like an echo down a lonely canyon, touching hidden places that even the sun couldn't reach. Nevada knew he wouldn't have any peace of mind until he assured himself that Eden was all right.

Impatient with himself for his own foolishness, Nevada braked to a stop in front of the isolated cabin. Beyond the cabin, the open, sparse forest began. Even before he turned off the engine, the anxiety that had been driving him intensified. There was smoke rising from the chimney but no one was coming out to greet him. Light green eyes noted every detail of the cabin. Though the weather had been clear, the only tracks Nevada could see in the melting snow went from the cabin around to the outhouse in back, with a single set of tracks detouring to the woodpile.