Daniel flattened himself against the warm stone and watched.
The canyon narrowed beneath him into a rough oval surrounded by red walls. One narrow trail entered from the south. Another twisted toward a dry wash to the north.
Six horses stood tied beneath a ledge.
Six men.
Maybe more.
Daniel waited.
A seventh never appeared.
Good.
Not good enough.
The raider walking toward Tala carried a tin cup.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a red handkerchief around his neck.
He stopped in front of her.
"Thirsty?"
Tala stared straight ahead.
The man laughed.
Daniel's fingers tightened around the rifle.
"All you gotta do is ask nice."
Tala finally looked at him.
Even from the ridge, Daniel could see the contempt in her face.
The outlaw's smile disappeared.
He tipped the water onto the dirt.
Daniel's jaw clenched.
"Idiot," he whispered.
The outlaw walked away.
Tala lowered her head.
For a second Daniel thought she had surrendered to exhaustion.
Then he saw her hands moving.
Slowly.
Working against the rope.
She had not surrendered at all.
Daniel almost smiled.
"All right," he whispered. "You're still fighting."
He studied the camp.
Two men near the horses.
One beside the fire.
One cleaning a revolver.
One standing watch near the southern trail.
Red Handkerchief moving between them.
Daniel could shoot the guard first.
Then one by the fire.
Maybe a third before the rest found cover.
After that?
Bad odds.
Daniel had survived several fights.
Never because he was the fastest.
Usually because he hated fighting enough to think before shooting.
He crawled backward.
There had to be another way.
The canyon walls curved east.
He spent almost an hour moving around them.
At the northern edge he found loose rock above the wash.
Below it, the raiders had stacked saddlebags, food, and two powder crates.
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
A plan formed.
A bad plan.
But bad plans were sometimes all poor men could afford.
He waited until darkness deepened.
Stars appeared.
The men gathered near the fire.
Tala remained tied.
Daniel slipped down the northern slope.
Every stone sounded louder than a gunshot.
He reached the horses.
One animal snorted.
Daniel froze.
"Easy."
The horse settled.
He cut five lead ropes.
Left one.
Then moved toward the powder crates.
He did not intend to blow the canyon apart.
Only create confusion.
He pulled several cartridges from a box and made a small trail toward dry brush.
A spark would do the rest.
Footsteps.
Daniel dropped behind a boulder.
A raider walked past less than ten feet away.
Daniel could smell whiskey.
The man stopped.
Turned.
Daniel held his breath.
Then someone near the fire shouted.
"Cal! Bring the bottle!"
The raider cursed and walked back.
Daniel waited.
Then moved.
He climbed toward the ridge again.
Halfway up, a pebble rolled.
Tala lifted her head.
Her eyes searched the darkness.
Daniel stopped.
There was no possible way she could see him.
Yet she looked directly toward the rocks.
Their eyes met.
Daniel felt something strange.
No panic.
No pleading.
She simply watched him.
Then one of the men turned toward her.
Tala immediately looked away.
Smart.
Very smart.
Daniel climbed.
At the top, he prepared his rifle.
He struck a match.
The flame was tiny in the darkness.
He lit a strip of cloth tied around a rock.
Counted.
Three.
Two.
One.
He threw.
The burning cloth landed near the cartridge trail.
For half a second nothing happened.
Then sparks raced through the brush.
Pop.
Pop.
POP.
The horses panicked.
Five broke free.
Men jumped up.
"What the hell?"
"GODDAMN HORSES!"
Two raiders ran toward them.
Daniel fired.
The southern guard dropped his rifle and fell behind a rock.
Chaos erupted.
Daniel fired again.
A second outlaw dove behind the fire.
"RIDGE!"
Gunfire exploded upward.
Stone shattered beside Daniel's head.
He rolled behind cover.
Below, Tala twisted desperately against the rope.
The horses thundered through the canyon.
Dust swallowed everything.
Daniel fired once toward the fire.
Another shot came back.
Then another.
He moved thirty feet left.
Never shoot twice from the same place.
His father had taught him that when hunting deer.
Daniel leaned out.
Red Handkerchief was dragging Tala away from the post.
Daniel's stomach dropped.
"No."
He fired.
The bullet struck the dirt near the man's boot.
The outlaw released Tala and dove aside.
Tala dropped behind the post.
Daniel moved again.
Bullets struck the ridge.
One clipped his shoulder.
Pain ripped through him.
He fell.
For several seconds he saw stars.
Warm blood spread beneath his shirt.
He touched the wound.
Not deep.
Keep moving.
He crawled toward another rock.
Below, one outlaw shouted.
"He's alone!"
Daniel froze.
That was bad.
Very bad.
"ONE MAN!" another yelled.
The raiders' fear changed to confidence.
Daniel checked his rifle.
Empty.
He reached for cartridges.
His fingers slipped.
Blood.
Sweat.
Dust.
He loaded two.
Below, Tala had found something.
A broken piece of metal.
She was sawing at the rope.
One outlaw spotted her.
"HEY!"
He rushed toward her.
Daniel fired.
The man's hat flew off.
He dropped behind the post.
Daniel's second shot struck the ground beside another raider.
Empty again.
He reached for his revolver.
Two men climbed toward the ridge.
Daniel moved.
One appeared between rocks.
Daniel fired.
The man disappeared.
The second kept coming.
Daniel backed toward the cliff edge.
His boot slipped.
He caught himself.
Then someone struck him from behind.
Daniel hit the dirt.
His revolver flew away.
A raider landed on him.
Knife.
Daniel caught the man's wrist.
The blade stopped inches above his throat.
The outlaw's face twisted.
"Stupid son of a—"
Daniel drove his knee upward.
The man's grip loosened.
Daniel rolled.
They crashed against a rock.
The knife fell.
The outlaw punched him.
Daniel's vision flashed.
Another punch.
Daniel reached blindly.
His hand closed around a stone.
He struck once.
The man collapsed.
Daniel lay there.
Silence.
No.
Not silence.
Someone running.
Daniel pushed himself up.
Red Handkerchief charged from below.
Daniel searched for his revolver.
Too far.
The outlaw raised his gun.
Then—
A gunshot.
Red Handkerchief stopped.
His expression changed.
He fell forward.
Daniel stared.
Behind him stood Tala.
Her wrists were still partly bound.
She held the revolver Daniel had dropped.
Smoke curled from the barrel.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Tala said, "You should look behind you more."
Daniel laughed.
It hurt.
"Been told that."
She tossed him the revolver.
Daniel caught it.
"Any more?"
"One ran."
Daniel looked around.
Two dead.
Two wounded badly enough not to continue.
One unconscious.
One fled.
He stood slowly.
His shoulder screamed.
Tala walked toward him.
The rope still hung from one wrist.
Daniel pulled his knife and cut it.
She rubbed the skin.
"You came alone?"
Her voice was quieter now.
Daniel nodded.
"Your father asked me to bring you home."
Tala stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because he's your father."
"That is not what I asked."
Daniel looked at her.
She looked exhausted.
Dust streaked her face.
A bruise darkened one cheek.
But her gaze was sharp.
"Why did you come?"
Daniel hesitated.
"I don't know."
Tala frowned.
"Men usually know why they risk dying."
"Maybe I'm unusual."
"Maybe you're foolish."
"Been told that too."
For the first time, her mouth almost curved.
Then she noticed the blood on his shoulder.
"You're hurt."
"Scratch."
"Men say that when they are bleeding."
Daniel sat against a rock.
"Then I suppose I'm a man."
Tala knelt.
She tore a strip of cloth from an abandoned shirt and tied it around his shoulder.
Her hands were steady.
Daniel watched her.
"You're not scared."
She gave him a look.
"I was tied to a post for four days."
"Fair point."
Tala finished the bandage.
"How far is my father's camp?"
"Three days if Amos doesn't die."
"Amos?"
"My horse."
"You name your horse?"
"Course."
She looked toward the scattered animals.
"Which one?"
Daniel pointed.
Amos stood near the northern wash chewing dry grass as though nothing important had happened.
Tala actually laughed.
It was brief.
But Daniel heard it.
And suddenly the canyon felt less dark.
They gathered supplies.
Tala found another horse.
Daniel recovered ammunition.
Before leaving, he checked the wounded raiders.
One glared at him.
"You ain't getting far."
Daniel crouched.
"Probably not."
"Our people will find you."
"Then they'll have to ride faster."
The man smiled through blood.
"You got no idea who you stole from."
Daniel's expression hardened.
"She wasn't yours."
The smile disappeared.
Daniel stood.
Outside the canyon, Tala rode beside him beneath the stars.
For nearly an hour they said nothing.
Then she spoke.
"My father told you something."
Daniel glanced over.
"What?"
"Before you came."
Daniel remembered.
If she accepts you after you return, you will have a place among us.
"Maybe."
"What exactly?"
Daniel repeated the words.
Tala stopped her horse.
Daniel rode several yards before realizing.
He turned.
Tala sat perfectly still.
Something had changed in her face.
Fear.
Not of him.
Of something else.
"What?" Daniel asked.
She looked away.
"My father should not have told you that."
"Why?"
"No."
"Tala."
"You will understand when we return."
Daniel frowned.
"Understand what?"
She urged her horse forward.
"The promise."
Daniel followed.
"What promise?"
Tala did not answer.
And for the first time since finding her, Daniel wondered whether escaping six outlaws had been the easy part.
---