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rubble. A rifle was still gripped in Nevada’s big right hand. The skin of his left wrist was cool but not chilled. He must have been conscious at some time since his fall, for he had fired the rifle repeatedly.
    “Nevada,” Eden said, pitching her voice to be both reassuring and distinct. Still talking, she moved back from him so that she could shrug out of her backpack and down jacket. “Nevada, can you hear me?”
    A shudder rippled through his powerful body. His eyes opened, a cougar’s eyes, trapped, dangerous. The fingers holding the rifle tightened. Eden didn’t notice, for she was spreading her bright red jacket over his chest.
    “Do you hurt anywhere?” she asked.
    When Nevada’s eyes focused on her, they changed. Life and light came back into them. He shook his head as though to clear it.
    “If you can do that, you didn’t break your neck.”
    Relief was bright in Eden’s voice. Growing up on a homestead in Alaska had taught her the basics of first aid – splinting breaks, stitching up gashes, and the dangers of hypothermia, but spine injuries were beyond her skills.
    And the thought of Nevada hurt bothered Eden deeply.
    She pulled off the knitted ski hat she had worn underneath her jacket hood. A moment later she was leaning over Nevada, stretching the hat to cover Nevada’s short black hair, tucking stray strands in, her face only inches from his, her breath bathing his cheeks above his beard, her soft hair touching him when she turned her head.
    “There. That will help you to stay warm.”
    “Eden? What the hell are you doing out here?”
    “Ask Baby. He dragged me out of a nice warm cabin and insisted I go for a walk in the snow.”
    Gently Eden lowered Nevada’s head back to the ground, cushioned the rocks beneath with one of her jacket’s quilted sleeves, and looked closely at Nevada’s pale green eyes. Both pupils were the same size and he was studying her with an intensity that was almost tangible. Whatever else had happened in his fall, his faculties were intact.
    “Thank God,” Eden said too softly for Nevada to hear.
    But he did, just as he felt the rushing warmth of the sigh she gave, as though the weight of the mountainside had just slipped from her shoulders.
    “Baby must have found you earlier, sensed something was wrong and came back to get me,” Eden continued, tucking her bright jacket around Nevada’s broad chest.
    Nevada blinked, scattering snowflakes that had tangled in his thick black eyelashes. “Be damned. Thought I saw a wolf a while back, but there aren’t any wolves around here, so I chalked it up to taking a header down the mountain.”
    “You did that, all right. Where do you hurt?”
    “Nowhere.”
    Eden looked skeptical. “Then why are you lying here?”
    “My left foot is wedged against the big boulder. When I couldn’t dig myself out, I began firing my rifle three rounds at a time.”
    Eden nodded. Three spaced shots were a universal come-running signal. “Baby must have heard the shots or caught your scent on the wind.” She turned back to the knapsack, pulled out the canteen, and took off the top. The coffee was still hot. She put the canteen in Nevada’s hands. “This will help to warm you. Drink as much as you can while I look at your foot.”
    Nevada inhaled deeply. “Damn. That smells like real coffee.”
    “Guaranteed strong enough to grow hair on the bottom of your feet,” Eden agreed as she began pulling on her gloves.
    The corner of Nevada’s mouth shifted unnoticeably beneath his beard as he lifted the canteen and drank deeply. The hot, rich liquid spread through his body like a benediction, warming everything it touched. Reluctantly he stopped drinking.
    “You want some?” he asked.
    “I’m plenty warm,” Eden said. “Drink as much as you can hold.”
    “That will be all of it.”
    “Good.”
    While Nevada finished the coffee, Eden began pushing loose rock away from his hips and legs, clearing a way to the trapped ankle. As