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tugged on Eden’s hand. Then he released her, trotted away about twenty feet and looked over his shoulder.
    “You’re sure? Compared to the Yukon there isn’t enough snow to mention, but I’m really not dying for a hike in the white stuff. There’s not enough snowpack for cross-country skis or snowshoes, which means—”
    Baby whined softly, pleading in the only way he could. Then he threw back his head and howled.
    The hair on the back of Eden’s neck stirred in primal response. Not even for the grizzly had Baby been so insistent.
    “Baby, stay.”
    Knowing without looking that the wolf would obey, Eden spun around and ran back into the cabin. She grabbed a canteen, filled it with hot coffee, banked the hearth fire, yanked on two layers of snow gear, shrugged into the backpack she always kept ready to go and ran out the front door in less than three minutes. She glanced at her watch, wondering how long she would be gone. If necessary she could live out of her backpack for several days. She would just as soon have the comforts of the cabin, however.
    “Okay, Baby. Let’s go.”
    The wolf didn’t waste any time. He set off at a purposeful trot across the meadow through the evergreens. Eden walked swiftly behind, pacing herself so that she would neither tire quickly nor become sweaty. Sweat was one of the greatest hazards of snow country, for when a person stopped moving, sweat froze, creating a layer of ice against the skin that sapped warmth dangerously.
    Baby was careful never to get out of Eden’s sight. Nor did he run with his nose to the ground as though following a trail. Gradually Eden realized that Baby was retracing his own steps – in places where snow had gathered, his tracks went in both directions.
    Eden had been following Baby for ten minutes when she saw the first hoofprints in a patch of snow. Two horses, one with a rein or a rope dragging. They were headed roughly southeast and she was headed roughly north. Baby ignored the horse sign even though Eden could see it was very fresh. The softly falling snow hadn’t yet blurred the crisp edges of the tracks. She stopped, stared off through the snow and thought she saw a vague shape that could have been a horse standing in the shelter of a big evergreen.
    “Baby!”
    The wolf stopped, gave a short, sharp bark and resumed trotting.
    After only an instant of hesitation, Eden kept on following Baby. She would trust the half-wild, half-tame animal’s uncanny instincts. If Baby wasn’t interested in the horse it was because he had more important game in mind.
    Without turning aside even once, Baby retraced his own tracks. The forest ended at the foot of a scree slope. Automatically Eden checked the barren slope first. Even beneath the veil of falling snow, the story of what had happened was clear: at least one horse had come skidding and rolling down through the scree, starting a small rockslide in the process. Hoofprints led away from the disturbed ground. There was no sign of any horse nearby.
    Baby never hesitated. He darted over the loose debris left by the slide and sat near a massive boulder ten yards from Eden. There the slide had parted like water, leaving behind larger rocks before closing around the downhill side of the car-size boulder.
    “Baby? What—”
    Eden’s breath broke, then came in harshly as she realized that something lay half-buried in the loose stone that had piled against the huge boulder.
    A man.
    His body blended with the rubble from the recent slide. Fresh snowfall was rapidly blurring all distinctions between stone and flesh. The man was motionless, yet hauntingly familiar. His bearded face was turned up to the chill softness of falling snow.
    “Nevada!”
    No motion answered Eden’s cry.
     
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    Eden scrambled through the loose debris and threw herself down at Nevada’s side. Even as she ripped off her gloves and felt for his pulse, she saw the brassy glitter of spent shell casings scattered on top of the rocky