Overhead, an array of stars, like crystals on black velvet, captured her attention. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy when a pack of coyotes began to howl, jolting her awake.
“Easy,” Gage said. “It’s just coyotes. Nothing to worry about.”
“I know. I’ve heard them before, just never this close.” She looked over at him and smiled. “I like hearing them. It’s kind of nice knowing they’re out there.”
“They can be pretty tough on your house cat, but they aren’t as dangerous as wolves.”
Abby said nothing. Her gaze had wandered back to Gage, and it occurred to her he would be sleeping right beside her. She smiled as she closed her eyes. Like the coyotes, it was nice to know he was there.
* * *
By noon the following day, the sun was a bright silver-gold orb, heating the landscape. As Gage’s horse, Sin, plodded along the trail, vultures circled overhead, big, black, and ominous. Death was out there. Gage never forgot that when he was in rough country like this.
Yesterday’s ride into the mountains had been easy.Too Easy, said the tingle at the back of his neck. It was a subliminal warning, and Gage always listened.
As Kyle had predicted, just three miles in, they crossed the old wagon road, turned their animals uphill, and followed it. As the old Apache had said, the worn ruts in the road zigzagged steeply upward, and there were obstacles—boulders that had washed down the mountain and places where the ground had shifted—making it nearly impassable.
A few miles farther, the wagon road narrowed to a single wheel rut. Along the trail, in places, the ground had fallen away on one side, leaving a drop-off of several hundred feet. The horses plodded onward, but the going was getting rougher.
Gage finally called a halt, and they stopped to rest, giving the animals a break and Gage time to look at King’s notes and the map. Abby and Mateo joined him.
“We’ve reached the next checkpoint,” Gage said, using his handheld Garmin Montana GPS to confirm the longitude and latitude written on the map. He checked King’s notes.
“‘When the wagon road turns south, look north over the ridge and you can see the Four Peaks lined up as one. In another direction, you can see a high, needle-pointed rock. At the base of the rock, there is a drainage we used for water.’ ”
Gage searched the horizon, located the points King referred to, glanced over to see Abby doing the same. Looking downhill into the rocks below, he spotted the water hole King had mentioned.
“We’ll make camp somewhere close,” he said. “Lead the animals down to water. In the morning, Smiley can take the string and head back to the ranch.” There was cell service where they had unloaded the trailer. Smiley would be able to call Walt to come pick him up.
Everyone set to work. Kyle and Smiley had a practiced routine, Smiley caring for the livestock while Kyle readied the camp. As Gage unrolled the tarp for their sleeping bags, his gaze went in search of Abby.
He walked over to Kyle, who was scrounging wood for the fire. “Have you seen Abby?”
“She took her camera and went for a walk. Said she wanted to get some background shots before it got dark, said she wouldn’t go far.”
An uneasy feeling slipped through him. “Which direction?”
Kyle pointed toward a cluster of granite boulders just a few yards away. As soon as Gage rounded the boulders, he spotted her, standing stock-still not far away, every muscle rigid, the color leached out of her face.
Warning bells went off in his head. Gage heard the distinctive rattle, and his whole body tightened with dread. Kyle must have heard it, too. He dropped the armload of wood he was carrying and hurried toward them. Gage held up a hand, warning him back, and eased quietly closer.
“Don’t move,” he said softly, drawing the machete out of the sheath on his thigh. A diamond-back rattlesnake nearly as thick as his bicep hissed and rattled, coiled and ready to strike from its place on a rock ledge that was eye level with Abby’s face.
Gage eased close beside her, slowly raising the blade. “Stay exactly where you are.” For an instant, Abby’s eyes sliced to his, and he read her fear. Abby didn’t move, and Gage swung the blade, its deadly arc neatly severing the snake’s head from its thick body, sending it flying into the brush a few feet away.
Gage sheathed the knife with a metallic ring, took a couple of steps, and swept Abby into his arms.
“I’ve got you. Everything’s okay.”
Shaking all over, she burrowed into him and just held on. Gage tightened his hold. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kyle and Smiley drifting back to camp now that Abby was safe.
Gage took a deep breath, fighting images of Abby and the snake, trying not to think about what could have happened. Another deep breath and he managed to block the memory of the icy fear that had sliced through him when he’d seen the snake’s forked tongue slithering out, almost touching Abby’s lovely face.
She rested her cheek on his chest. “I was watching everywhere I walked. I-I didn’t think to look up at the ledge.”
He smoothed a hand over her hair. “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. Things happen in places like this.” Which was the reason he hadn’t wanted her to come along.
Abby eased away. “When I first saw you carrying that big knife, I thought it was overkill. You know what I mean? Now I’m very glad you had it.”
