CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
For a long time, she remained where she had fallen, then slowly she raised her head. Her mind must be playing tricks? No, it was real. Someone was racing the engine of a car. It stopped then started, and then there was silence.
With super-human effort, she pushed herself to her feet and moved forward, through the cacti and mesquite, up a small hill.
Working her way through the underbrush, she saw it; in a box canyon below stood an old adobe house. One side of the canyon served as the back wall of the structure. Parked by the side of the house were several horse trailers. An open Jeep was parked in front.
Five saddled horses, complete with bedrolls and rifle scabbards, were tied to the hitching post. There were also eight mules wearing empty pack harness. From inside
