Chapter 4Eliza stared at the blanket of stars as she listened for any sound of trouble. There could be bandits lurking in the clear desert night, waiting for her to fall asleep so they could slip into the camp and kill her. She jumped every time a twig snapped, the innocuous sound amplified by the high rock walls surrounding them. Her skin crawled, her active imagination creating a hundred scenarios and visions that plagued her every time she closed her eyes. A bullet in the back of her head, a knife in her throat, a strange man pawing at her with clumsy, dirty hands—nightmares surrounded her. Eliza longed for the security of her own home, the safety of her large bed that her husband had carved himself as a wedding present. The force of this longing sent silent tears rolling down her cold
