Mariah didn't notice. She was looking at Cash with hopeful eyes, waiting for him to volunteer. He didn't seem to notice her.

"No one prospects the high country in the winter," Luke said unhelpfully.

Mariah simply said, "Cash?"

"Sorry," he said. "That country is too rough for a tenderfoot like you."

"I've camped out before."

Cash grunted but was obviously unimpressed.

"I've hiked, too."

"Who carried your pack?"

"I did."

He grunted again. The sound wasn't encouraging. Inspiration struck Mariah. "I'll do the cooking. I'll even do the dishes, too. Please?"

Cash looked at her luminous golden eyes and the graceful hand resting on his bare forearm in unconscious pleading. Desire shot through him at the thought of having her pleading with him for his skill as a lover rather than his expertise in hunting for gold.

"No," Cash said, more roughly than he had intended.

Mariah flinched as though she had been slapped. Hastily she withdrew her hand from his arm.

For an instant Luke's eyes widened, then narrowed with a purely male assessment. Soon his mouth shifted into a smile that was both sympathetic and amused as he realized what Cash's problem was.

"If I were you, Granite Man," Nevada drawled calmly, "I'd change my mind."

Cash shot the other man a savage look. "You're not me."

"Does that mean you're volunteering to go gold hunting?" Mariah said to Nevada, hoping her voice didn't sound as hurt as she felt by Cash's harsh refusal.

"Sorry, Muffin," Luke said, cutting across anything Nevada might have wanted to say. "I'm too shorthanded as it is. I can't afford to turn loose of Nevada."

"Damn shame," Nevada said without heat. "Hate to see a good treasure map go to waste."

"What?" Luke and Cash said together. Silently Nevada pushed a piece of paper toward Mariah. Cash bent over her shoulder, all but holding his breath so that he wouldn't take in her fragile, tantalizing scent.

"I'm a warrior, not a prospector," Nevada said, "but I've read more than one map drawn by a barely literate man. Offhand, I'd guess this one shows the route to Mad Jack's mine."

5

With a harshly suppressed sound of disgust and anger, Cash looked from the age-darkened, brittle paper to Mariah's innocent expression.

No wonder she was so eager to trade her nonexistent rights of inheritance in exchange for Luke's permission to prospect on the Rocking M – she has a damned map to follow to Mad Jack's mine!

Yet Mariah had looked so vulnerable when she had pleaded with Cash for his help.

Sweet little con artist. God. Why are men so stupid? And why am I so particularly stupid!

Mariah glanced from the paper to Nevada and smiled wryly. "I got all excited the first time I looked at it, too. Then I looked again. And again. I stared until I was cross-eyed, but I still couldn't make out two-thirds of the chicken scratches. Even if I assume Mad Jack drew this – and that's by no means a certainty – he didn't even mark north or south in any way I can decipher. As for labeling any of the landmarks, not a chance. I suspect the old boy was indeed illiterate. There's not a single letter of the alphabet on the whole map."

"He didn't need words. He read the land, not books." Nevada turned the map until the piece of paper stood on one chewed corner. "That's north," he said, indicating the upper corner.

"You're sure?" she asked, startled. "How can you tell?"

"He's right," Cash said an instant later. He stared at the map in growing excitement. "That's Mustang Point. Nothing else around has that shape. Which means… yes, there. Black Canyon. Then that must be Satan's Bath, which leads to the narrow rocky valley, then to Black Springs…" Cash's voice trailed off into mutterings.

Mariah watched, wide-eyed, as local place names she had never heard of were emphasized by stabs of Cash's long index finger. Then he began muttering words she had heard before, pungent words that told her he had run into a dead end. She started to ask what was wrong, but held her tongue. Luke and Nevada were standing now, leaning over the map in front of her, tracing lines that vanished into a blurred area that looked for all the world as though someone long ago had spilled coffee on the paper, blotting out the center of the map.

"Damn, that's enough to peeve a saint," Cash said, adding a few phrases that were distinctly unsaintly. "Some stupid dipstick smudged the only important part of the map. Now it's useless!"

"Not quite," Luke said. "Now you know the general area of the ranch to concentrate on."

Cash shot his friend a look of absolute disgust. "Hell, Luke, where do you think I've been looking for the past two years?"

"Oh. Devil's Peak area, huh?"

Cash grunted. "It's well named. It has more cracks and crannies, rills and creeks than any twelve mountains. It looks like it's been shattered by God's own rock hammer. I've used the line shack at Black Springs for my base. So far, I've managed to pan the lower third of a single small watershed."

"Find anything?"

"Trout," Cash said succinctly.

Mariah licked her lips. "Trout? Real, free-swimming, wild mountain trout?"

A smile Cash couldn't prevent stole across his lips. "Yeah. Sleek, succulent little devils, every one of them."

"Fresh butter, a dusting of cornmeal, a pinch of-"

"Stop it," groaned Cash. "You're making me hungry all over again."

"Does Black Springs have watercress?" she asked, smiling dreamily.

"No, but the creek does farther down the valley, where the water cools. Black Springs is hot."

"Hot? Wonderful! A long day of prospecting, a hot bath, a meal of fresh trout, camp biscuits, watercress salad…" Mariah made a sound of luxuriant anticipation.

Luke laughed softly. Cash swore, but there was no heat in it. He had often enjoyed nature's hard-rock hot tub. The meal Mariah mentioned, however, had existed only in his dreams. He was a lousy cook.

"Then you'll do it?" Mariah asked eagerly, sensing that Cash was weakening. "You'll help me look for Mad Jack's mine?"

"Don't push, Muffin," Luke said. "Cash and I will talk it over later. Alone."

"I'll give you half of my half," she said coaxingly to Cash, ignoring her older brother.

"Mariah-" began Luke.

"Who's pushing?" she asked, assuming an expression of wide-eyed innocence."

"Moi? Never. I'm a regular doormat."

Nevada looked at Cash. "You need this map?"

"No."

"Then if nobody minds, I'd like to pass it along to some people who are real good at making ruined documents give up their secrets."

Cash started to ask questions, then remembered where – and for whom – Nevada had worked before he came to the Rocking M.

"Fine with me," Cash said. "The map belongs to Luke and Mariah, though."

"Take it," said Luke.

"Sure. Who are you sending it to?" Mariah asked.

"Don't worry. They'll take good care of it," Nevada said, folding the map delicately along age-worn creases.

"But where are you sending it?"

Mariah was talking to emptiness. Nevada had simply walked away from the table." The back door opened and closed quietly."

"I didn't mean to make him mad."

"You didn't," Luke said, stretching. "Nevada isn't long on social niceties like smiling and saying excuse me. But he's a damned good man. One of the best. Just don't ever push him," Luke added, looking directly at Cash. "Even you. Nevada doesn't push worth a damn."

Cash smiled thinly. "My mother didn't hatch any stupid chicks. I saw Nevada fight once. If I go poking around in that lion's den, it will be with a shotgun."

"But where is Nevada taking the map?" Mariah asked in a plaintive voice.

"I don't know," Luke admitted. "I do know you'll get it back in as good shape as it was when Nevada took it. Better, probably."