“No, I don’t think so,” Zach replied. “There were enough tracks in the wash—cowboys and maybe cavalry—I doubt they’ll realize they missed us before morning. Rusty is getting tired. The best thing we can do is go a little farther up this wash and rest until daybreak.” As he spoke, he turned and started off, leading the horse.
“I can walk too,” Emily offered. She lurched in the saddle as the bay stubbed a toe on a rock and stumbled.
“No, you’re so light he doesn’t even know he’s carrying anything. It won’t be much farther.”
True to that prediction, Zach rounded another bend and stopped.
There the smooth sandy wash-bottom ended in a short cataract of stone.
Occasional running water had dug out a basin at the bottom of it, which had half filled with soft sand. He dropped the reins to grou
