CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The rain came down like a wall, drenching Swail within seconds. Cursing, he stumbled towards his horse, sliding up into the saddle. He could barely make out the mine from here, but he cared little for that now. This was a mistake, and he should have told Turner so. Returning to this damnable place, with those memories, those nightmares, he should have known it would all end terribly. And here he was, giving truth to that assertion. He’d confront Turner, tell him enough was enough. There was no gold, no hope of riches. He wouldn’t like it, but what the hell … he’d have to live with it. The way Swail had for all these years.
He walked his horse through the rain. Bent over its neck, wishing he’d brought a coat. The storm had broken so unexpectedly without any sign of its b
