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"Six, maybe seven miles." He tented a hand over his eyes and squinted at the weak sun. It hung low to the ground, suspended amidst the thick gray shroud of the coming storm. "We're going to have to hurry to reach it before sunset."
Sunset. She shivered at the word, wishing he had said something else. It was so final. The single word that held together all her hopes
and fears and prayers. Sunset. Whatever would happen to them?a taste of eternity or a plunge straight to hell?would happen when that pale yellow globe ducked into the darkening earth.
She slipped her hand through his, squeezed the damp leather of his glove. Fear was a cold, hard stone in the pit of her stomach, but she refused to give in to it.
He squeezed her hand. "Let's go."
She nodded, her throat too thick to force a sound. Wordlessly she climbed back into the saddle.
With a sigh, he climbed up alongside her and settled wearily into the leather seat. Drawing back on the reins, he maneuvered Captain off the jutting precipice of rock and headed down the winding, narrow trail that led to the gorge.
For more than an hour, they picked their way through the narrow crevasse that led down to the canyon floor. The horse's hooves splashed on the slippery mud. Every now and then his heaving flank smacked against the moist sandstone walls. Rain hammered their heads, streaming down the sides of Lainie's face in icy, squiggling lines. She blinked against the wetness and tried to
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stay alert, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes and hold Killian. Hold him and never let him go.
Finally they reached the end of the trail and came into the open space of the canyon floor. Wind whipped down the rock walls and smacked into them, yanking the hat from Killian's head. He reached for it and missed. Lainie watched the black dot of a hat spiral away from them, dancing and twirling above the muddy redness of the ground.
The rain picked up, turned from a drizzle to a drenching, icy cold downpour. Nickel-sized droplets hammered her head, plunked on the puddles and rivulets that grew suddenly from the dirt. Wind and water spiked her eyes, made it hard to see anything.
"Can you see it?"
She heard his voice, reedy and thin against the wind's howling laughter.
"Yeah," she yelled back, drawing in a mouthful of sweet, fragrant rain. She sputtered and coughed and pressed her lips together. Though she couldn't see the sun anymore, she knew it had dipped farther in the hour they'd spent winding through the mesa's unforgiving walls.
Killian spurred Captain to a gallop. The horse gave a mighty effort. He lurched into a jarring trot, then wheezed and shuddered and staggered sideways. His trot melted back into a slow, methodical, plodding walk.
Killian shook his head and patted the animal's sweat-1 foamed neck.
Lainie leaned around Killian, trying to see Captain's | big head. "What's the matter?"
"He doesn't have any more to give."
Lainie's gaze shot to the horizon, where the hidden I sun lurked behind a gray armada of clouds. "Are we | going to make it?"
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"We'll make it." There was a steely determination in his voice that reassured Lainie. She settled back into her seat and tightened her hold on him, resting her damp cheek against the wet oilskin of his duster.
They picked their way across the desert floor, moving with agonizing slowness. The wind was a constant stinging slap against their cheeks, the rain a hammering stream in their eyes. Suddenly Killian drew Captain to a stop.
"What?"
He held a gloved hand up for silence. "Something's not right." He stiffened, drew the gun from his belt.
Lainie glanced to the left and saw something. A shadow of movement, a glitter of light where no light was possible.
"Kil?"
The deafening roar of a shotgun blast severed her sentence.
Captain let out a groaning, wheezing grunt and staggered sideways. His head dipped. Stumbling forward, he sank to his knees in the soft, wet earth.
"Shit!" Killian clutched Lainie around the waist and jumped out of the saddle.
