Warrior Read Free Page B

standing motionless in the icy twilight, watching him with a mixture of shock and deeply sensual speculation in her eyes.
     
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    The big Appaloosa threw up its head and snorted.
    “Take it easy, you knothead,” Nevada said soothingly. Then, without turning around, he added, “Morning, Ten. Hear anything from Mariah and Cash?”
    Tennessee Blackthorn was accustomed to his brother’s uncanny ability to tell when he was being approached from behind, and by whom. Even so, Ten had hoped that after almost two years on the Rocking M, Nevada would lose some of the habits of a guerrilla warrior. But he hadn’t. He had the same fighting edge to his reflexes and senses that he had had in the mountains of Afghanistan, where he had taught warriors with flintlocks how to defeat soldiers with tanks. Nevada had the same intense discipline and concerted lack of emotion that he had learned in Afghanistan. Even the Rocking M’s cowhands had given up betting on when – or under what circumstances – Nevada Blackthorn would truly smile.
    “Cash called late yesterday,” Ten said. “Mariah’s doctor said she was fine. Apparently she missed the flu that was going around here.”
    “Good.”
    “Speaking of being sick, are you sure you should be on your feet? That was a fair fever you were running yesterday.”
    “I’m glad Mariah isn’t sick,” Nevada said, settling the saddle gently over the skittish Appaloosa. “She and Cash should have fine, strapping children. I’m looking forward to hearing another healthy baby around here hollering for mama to bring his next meal. Carla’s new baby is really something.” Nevada cinched up the saddle girth with a swift, smooth motion, moving so quickly that the horse had no time to object. “Like your Carolina. That’s one fine set of lungs the little lady has. She and Logan make a real pair.”
    Ten smiled dryly and accepted that Nevada wasn’t going to talk about flu, rest, and a cold ride into the mountains. “Glad you like having babies around. Mariah will give us two more little screamers sometime in May or June.”
    Nevada looked over his shoulder. “Twins?”
    “Yeah. Cash was so excited he could hardly talk. He and Mariah had been hoping, but they hadn’t said anything until they were sure everything was fine.”
    “Tell her to be extra careful. Twins tend to be born small, and small babies have a harder time.”
    “Tell her yourself. She’ll be here tomorrow.”
    “I won’t.” Nevada gestured with his head toward MacKenzie Ridge. “I’m going to spend a few days tracking cats. Supposed to be fresh snow by afternoon up toward Wildfire Canyon. It may be the last tracking snow of the winter.”
    And maybe, just maybe, when I’m chasing cats rather than fighting fever dreams, I’ll be able to see something other than extraordinary hazel eyes and a warm mouth that trembles at the lightest touch of a man’s finger.
    The back door of the ranch house slammed as someone left the dining room. The Appaloosa shied wildly. Nevada cursed in the silence of his mind and brought his attention back to the horse.
    “I can see why Luke gelded that one,” Ten muttered. “Target has more brains in his spotted butt than between his ears.”
    Nevada shrugged. “As long as you pay attention, he’s the best winter horse on the Rocking M.” With the unconscious ease of a man performing a familiar task, Nevada gathered the roping rein, stepped into the stirrup and mounted in a single easy motion. “Especially in fresh snow. Target’s big enough not to get bogged down in the drifts.”
    “Wouldn’t life be simpler if you just shot the cougars with a tranquilizer dart, put a radio collar on them and tracked them from the air?”
    “Simpler? Maybe. A hell of a lot more expensive for sure. And a hell of a lot less fun for the cats – and me.”
    Ten laughed softly. “That’s what Luke said. I didn’t argue.” Ten started to turn away, then remembered something else. “You