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“We’d be well advised to find shelter,” Frank said. “It’s gonna come a storming. These kind of winter storms are unpredictable.”
I looked in front of us and the horizon was a dark blue, like some carrots I’ve seen. “How far away are we from that cave pool we found?” I asked. The last time we’d been out in the Llano, we’d made it to a pile of rocks with an underground spring, which saved our lives.
“Aw, hell Curly,” Frank said, “I expect that’s a good seventy miles from here, maybe more. We’ll have to make do some other way.”
We rode on for about ten more minutes when Frank spotted a stand of cottonwoods. He got off his horse and hitched it to a branch and took his knife out.
“We ain’t got much time,” Frank said, looking at the horizon. “Let’s get to work.”
I had no idea what in th
