Chapter 50

Yet, my apprehension wasn’t logical. No one had entered the mouth of the breaks before me. There were no tracks or even evidence of blurred hoof prints. A rider approaching this end of the rough country would have been evident to my eyes. Still, the state of my nerves raised an alarm in my mind. With every step the palomino took, I halfway expected a bullet or a confrontation.

By the time I reached the side canyon that led to the little-known, difficult trail up out of the breaks country, I was so jittery that I reined Yellow Thunder into the mouth of the draw. A few minutes later, I stood looking at the mostly obscured trail up the south wall of the place. I made certain the pigeon cages were secure, apologized to Thunder, and urged him up the steep slope.