Chapter 45
“Do you think he’ll shoot us?” Noelle asked as they raced through the afternoon.
“No.” George hoped he wasn’t lying. But he had the kid’s rifle, which was in the fringed scabbard secured to the saddle, and Salida put distance between them so quickly the kid’s revolver wasn’t likely to have the range. George was also pleased to note Salida was in better condition than the slate gray stallion and the pinto, and she was covering the ground at a good clip. The kid had seemed nice enough—George had known he was trying to get his attention to offer reassurance, but George had kept his gaze down. He was supposed to be a frightened woman.
After a couple of miles, George slowed Salida to a walk and straightened. Noelle sat up and glanced at him over her shoulder.
“I’m scared, Georgie
