Sunny was asleep, exhausted from her long labor and then the fright and stress of having surgery when the baby wouldn’t come. Her eyes were circled with fatigue, but Chance thought she had never been more beautiful. Her face, when he laid the baby in her arms, had been exalted. Until he died, he would never forget that moment. The medical personnel in the room had faded away to nothing, and it had been just him and his wife and their child.

He looked down at the wrinkled, equally exhausted little face of his son. The baby slept as if he had run a marathon, his plump hands squeezed into fierce little fists. He had downy black hair, and though it was difficult to judge a newborn’s eye color, he thought they might turn the same brilliant gray as Sunny’s.

Zane poked his head in the door. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’ve been sent to reconnoiter. She’s still asleep, huh?”

Chance looked at his wife, as sound asleep as the baby. “She had a rough time.”

“Well, hell, he weighs ten pounds and change. No wonder she needed help.” Zane came completely into the room, smiling as he examined the unconscious little face. “Here, let me hold him. He needs to start meeting the family.” He took the baby from Chance, expertly cradling him to his chest. “I’m your uncle Zane. You’ll see me around a lot. I have two little boys who are just itching to play with you, and your aunt Maris—you’ll meet her in a minute—has one who’s just a little older than you are. You’ll have plenty of playmates, if you ever open your eyes and look around.”

The baby’s eyelids didn’t flicker open, even when Zane rocked him. His pink lips moved in an unconscious sucking motion.

“You forget fast how little they are,” Zane said softly as he smoothed his big hand over the baby’s small round skull. He glanced up at Chance and grinned. “Looks like I’m still the only one who knows how to make a little girl.”

“Yeah, well, this is just my first try.”

“It’ll be your last one, too, if they’re all going to weigh ten pounds,” came a voice from the bed. Sunny sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, and a smile spread across her face as she spied her son. “Let me have him,” she said, holding out her arms.

There was a protocol to this sort of thing. Zane passed the baby to Chance, and Chance carried him to Sunny, settling him in her arms. No matter how often he saw it, he was always touched by the communion between mother and new baby, that absorbed look they both got as if they recognized each other on some basic, primal level.

“Are you feeling well enough for company?” Zane asked. “Mom’s champing at the bit, wanting to get her hands on this little guy.”

“I feel fine,” Sunny said, though Chance knew she didn’t. He had to kiss her, and even now there was that flash of heat between them, even though their son was only a few hours old. She pulled back, laughing a little and blushing. “Get away from me, you lech,” she said, teasing him, and he laughed.

“What are you going to name him?” Zane demanded. “We’ve been asking for months, but you never would say. It can’t stay a secret much longer.”

Chance trailed his finger down the baby’s downy cheek, then he put his arms around both Sunny and the baby and held them close. Life couldn’t get much better than this.

“Wolf,” he said. “He’s little Wolf.”