Only 06 - Winter Fire

almost frightening ecstasy.
    â€œIf you tell me what’s on your mind,” he said, “I can help you find it.”
    She laughed raggedly and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
    â€œI want to climb up that for a better look at the sides of the canyon up ahead,” she said huskily, gesturing toward the mound of rubble.
    â€œIf you can see the canyon clearly, a man with a rifle can see you clearly.”
    â€œDo you really think—”
    â€œHell, yes, I really think,” he interrupted impatiently. “You should try thinking too, or you’ll end up as full of holes as your damned jacket.”
    She swallowed.
    â€œRiding into the wind the way we are,” Case said, “the horses can’t scent anyone following us. But I’m betting someone is doing just that.”
    Sarah licked her suddenly dry lips.
    His hand tightened on her arm as need sank its talons deeply into his body. Then he caught himself and eased his grip.
    Even through gloves and heavy clothes, she felt good. Warm and sleek and female.
    â€œWhat are you looking for?” he asked almost caressingly.
    Her mouth went dry. She had seen his eyes like that before, green fire barely banked.
    And then he had pressed into her, filling her completely.
    â€œI’m looking for different ruins,” she said huskily. “Not real rooms, but little stone caches built in cracks that are too small to stand upright in.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œUp canyon. On the south side. I thought I saw something when I was pulling firewood out of that mess.”
    Slowly he released her arm.
    â€œI’ll look,” he said. “You wait here. If the horses hear something behind us, get under cover and stay there.”
    Case began scrambling up the mound of debris. It was a jumble of shattered logs, rock of all sizes, and dirt. The higher he climbed, the more obvious it was that a flood had cleaned out the upper reaches of the canyon sometime in the last few years.
    Maybe it was the year Hal tried to pistol-whip Conner once too often , he thought.
    Then he wondered if this might not be the same canyon where Hal had died.
    What was it Sarah said? he asked himself. Something about the side canyons being full of water and Lost River turning into a muddy flood .
    Using every bit of cover he found, he went to the top of the mound and flattened himself in a crevice. Carefully, thoroughly, he looked at the upper canyon through his spyglass.
    Nothing moved but the wind.
    He looked again, this time concentrating on the walls of the canyon, where pockets, crevices, and small overhangs had been weathered out of the solid rock.
    Finally Case spotted something he thought might be ruins.
    Not much to speak of , he thought. More like a hunter’s cache than a real shelter .
    No matter how carefully he scanned the narrow head of the canyon, he found nothing more impressive. He shifted his focus back to the modest ruins. When he was satisfied that he had found a route up to them, he turned toward the lower canyon again.
    Methodically he quartered the middle and lower reaches of Ambush Canyon with the spyglass.
    Something flashed down in the mouth of the canyon.
    Spyglass, likely , he decided. Everywhere we go, someone is watching us .
    Or trying to kill us .
    Case came off the debris pile faster than he had gone up.
    â€œWell?” she asked. “Did you see anything?”
    â€œThere’s at least one man watching the mouth of the canyon.”
    â€œHow close is he?”
    â€œOut of rifle range,” he said succinctly.
    She lifted her head and smelled the wind like a wildcreature. Then she smiled. It was a baring of teeth rather than a sign of amusement.
    â€œThey’ll be real cold down there,” she said. “Storms scour the canyon mouths something fierce.”
    â€œThere are some ruins up along the south side of the canyon,” he said. “Nothing much to speak of.”
    â€œCan we get to them from down here?”
    â€œIt won’t be easy.”
    â€œBut we can do it?”
    He sighed. “Yes.”
    Eagerly she went to one of the pack animals and untied the shovel.
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?” she asked.
    â€œAre you sure you wouldn’t rather—”
    â€œYes,” she interrupted impatiently. “I’m sure.”
    â€œHell’s fire.”
    He went to his saddle and untied two rolled-up blankets. With a few quick slashes of his knife, he made