CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Ranch
It looked like something out of a faraway land, gripped as it was by winter. The snow had settled, casting everything in a comforting white blanket. At least from a distance. The air, however, almost burned the throat it was so cold. Reining in, huddled in his coat, and watching, Cole knew there was something wrong as soon as he spotted the horse tethered at the side of the barn. It was a horse he did not recognise, the rig jet black, studded with jewels, not something anyone he knew would ride. Slipping from his own mount, he drew the Henry repeating carbine from its scabbard and moved down the slight incline leading to the cabin, keeping himself low. Darting from one measly piece of cover to the next, his boots crunching through the snow. In the eerie sile
