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Gullies became deeper, rocky cliffs more common, and the creeks and rivers widened into broad, often dry washes winding among spectacular stone-walled canyons. Juniper and pinon mixed with sagebrush, giving the air a clean, pungent smell. In deep, protected clefts where tiny springs welled forth, a handful of true pine trees grew next to cottonwoods. Along the canyon bottoms the brash thinned to clumps. Depending on altitude or exposure, juniper, pinon, cedar and big sage grew.
     
    Diana watched the changing landscape intently, seeking the plants that were the hallmark and foundation of Anasazi culture—yucca and pinon, bee plant and goosefoot. On the higher flatlands she also looked for stands of big sage, which grew where the earth had been disturbed and then abandoned by man. Each time another nameless canyon or gully opened up along the rough dirt road, she looked at the unexplored land with a yearning she couldn't disguise.
     
    "Stop it," Ten said finally. "You're making me feel like the Marquis de Sade."
     
    Startled, Diana turned toward him. "What?"
     
    "Don't worry. I'm not talking about the way you hug the door handle as though it were your last hope of safety," Ten drawled, giving her a sideways glance.
     
    A flush crawled up Diana's cheeks. She looked down and saw that she was all but sitting on the door handle in order to get as much distance as possible between herself and Ten.
     
    "I—it's nothing personal," she said, her voice strained.
     
    "Like hell it isn't," Ten said calmly. "But that's not what made me feel like a sadist. It's the way you look at all those canyons that's getting to me. It's the way a starving man looks at food, or a thirsty man looks at water, or Luke looks at Carla when they all sit in the rocking chair while she nurses Logan. If it will make you feel any better, we can stop and get closer to whatever it is you love so much."
     
    Ten's perceptivity startled Diana. It was unexpected in a man. But then, Ten had been unexpected from the first moment she saw him. The longer she was around him, the more unexpected he became.
     
    "That's—that's very kind of you, Mr. Blackthorn, but I'm afraid looking won't make me feel much better."
     
    Clear, ice-gray eyes glanced briefly at Diana, then resumed watching the rough road.
     
    "What would make you feel better, professor?"
     
    "Being called something else, ramrod, " she shot back before she could think better of it.
     
    The corner of Ten's mouth tugged up. "I'm not much on formality. Call me Ten."
     
    Diana started to reciprocate, then stopped, afraid that Ten would mistake politeness for an entirely different sort of offer.
     
    He shot her another quick glance. "Go ahead, I won't take it as a come-on."
     
    "I beg your pardon?"
     
    "Go ahead and ask me to call you Diana. I'll assume you're being polite, not looking for a little action."
     
    "Let me assure you, I'm not looking for a 'little action.'"
     
    "I figured that out the first time I saw you. So uncramp your hand from the door handle and tell me why you're looking at the countryside like you're saying goodbye to your only friend."
     
    "Are you always this direct?"
     
    "Yes. Are you always this nervous around men or is it me in particular?"
     
    "Does it matter?"
     
    "If I'm the one setting you on edge, I'll get out of your hair as soon as possible," Ten said matter-of-factly. "If it's just men in general you don't like, it won't matter who's on site with you."
     
    Diana was silent.
     
    "Well that tells me," Ten said, shrugging. "As soon as Nevada arrives, I'll turn September Canyon over to him."
     
    "It's not you," Diana said, forcing out each word.
     
    "Did anyone ever mention that you don't lie worth a damn? You've been terrified of me ever since I came over the corral fence and taught Baker what his horse already knew—in a fight, smart goes farther than big."
     
    Diana closed her eyes, seeing again the blows landing too quickly to be believed. "Fast, strong