thick, unruly hair and combed it into place as best he could, then did the same for his mustache. That done he retied the bandana and settled his hat on his head.
“You look very handsome,” Lorena said, smiling. “Quite the dashing gentleman.”
Tyree felt himself flush under Lorena’s amused scrutiny. He mumbled a hasty thank-you, then glad to make his escape, said, “I’ll go saddle the steeldust.”
A few minutes later he and Lorena rode away from the cabin, then turned east in the direction of Hatch Wash.
“Where are we headed?” Tyree asked.
“It’s a secret place of mine,” Lorena answered. “I found it when I was a little girl and I used to go there when I wanted to be alone.” She looked at Tyree from under the dark fans of her eyelashes. “I still do sometimes.”
Lorena seemed to have forgotten the events of last night, making polite small talk as they splashed across the wash. They saw plenty of Laytham cattle, then quartered to the northeast. The girl’s paint set a good pace as she led the way in the direction of looming Abajo Peak, a dome-shaped mountain rising more than eleven thousand feet above the level, its slopes covered in fir, maple and aspen.
Just when Tyree was convinced they were riding all the way to the mountain, Lorena turned into a narrow side canyon that opened up gradually around a massive boulder three times the height of a man on horseback. The huge rock had toppled from the canyon rim in ancient times and a third of its bulk was now buried in sand. They rounded the obstacle and rode through patches of sagebrush and mesquite, the ground under them rising steeply until, after a mile, it leveled off at a clear and beautiful lake.
Tyree reined up beside Lorena and smiled. “You must have been a brave little girl to have found this place by yourself.”
“I was.” She smiled in return. “I guess it was the way Pa raised me after my mother died. He always wanted a son, but when I came along he made do and turned me into a tomboy.” Lorena laughed, a small, lovely sound in the silence of the canyon. “I explored everywhere by myself, as far north as Moab and all the way south to Black Mesa.” She turned and patted the basket behind her. “Shall we?”
Lorena had packed roast beef sandwiches, a yellow cake dotted with poppy seeds, and a bottle of wine. They sat in the shade of a willow that trailed branches into the lake and ate in silence for a while, enjoying the play of the sun on the water and the small sound made by crickets in the bushes.
“Why did you bring me here, Lorena?” Tyree finally asked the question he’d been turning over in his mind since they’d left the ranch. “Last night you did everything but accuse me of being a cold-blooded killer, and now we’re having a picnic together.”
The girl shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to share my secret place with you. The lake is small, but it is lovely, isn’t it?”
Tyree nodded. “It sure is, but the lake isn’t the reason you brought me here.”
Lorena turned to him, her troubled eyes finding his. “You’re right. It’s not the reason. Chance, I wanted to talk to you about Quirt Laytham.”
Tyree stiffened. “What about him?”
“I want you and Quirt to be friends.” She held up her hand. “I know, I know, mistakes were made, but nothing that can’t be undone.”
A small anger flared in Tyree. “You’re blinded by him, aren’t you, Lorena? You can’t see past the good looks and flashy clothes to the man underneath. I was a stranger passing through, but I was hung by men acting on Laytham’s orders. I’d have strangled to death if Owen hadn’t found me. And what about him? What about Owen? Laytham wants him dead so he can claim his few acres of grass. Tell me, what kind of a man thinks that way? How can greed and the desire for power possess a man so badly that he’ll kill everybody in his path to get what he wants?”
Tyree dropped the piece of cake
“You look very handsome,” Lorena said, smiling. “Quite the dashing gentleman.”
Tyree felt himself flush under Lorena’s amused scrutiny. He mumbled a hasty thank-you, then glad to make his escape, said, “I’ll go saddle the steeldust.”
A few minutes later he and Lorena rode away from the cabin, then turned east in the direction of Hatch Wash.
“Where are we headed?” Tyree asked.
“It’s a secret place of mine,” Lorena answered. “I found it when I was a little girl and I used to go there when I wanted to be alone.” She looked at Tyree from under the dark fans of her eyelashes. “I still do sometimes.”
Lorena seemed to have forgotten the events of last night, making polite small talk as they splashed across the wash. They saw plenty of Laytham cattle, then quartered to the northeast. The girl’s paint set a good pace as she led the way in the direction of looming Abajo Peak, a dome-shaped mountain rising more than eleven thousand feet above the level, its slopes covered in fir, maple and aspen.
Just when Tyree was convinced they were riding all the way to the mountain, Lorena turned into a narrow side canyon that opened up gradually around a massive boulder three times the height of a man on horseback. The huge rock had toppled from the canyon rim in ancient times and a third of its bulk was now buried in sand. They rounded the obstacle and rode through patches of sagebrush and mesquite, the ground under them rising steeply until, after a mile, it leveled off at a clear and beautiful lake.
Tyree reined up beside Lorena and smiled. “You must have been a brave little girl to have found this place by yourself.”
“I was.” She smiled in return. “I guess it was the way Pa raised me after my mother died. He always wanted a son, but when I came along he made do and turned me into a tomboy.” Lorena laughed, a small, lovely sound in the silence of the canyon. “I explored everywhere by myself, as far north as Moab and all the way south to Black Mesa.” She turned and patted the basket behind her. “Shall we?”
Lorena had packed roast beef sandwiches, a yellow cake dotted with poppy seeds, and a bottle of wine. They sat in the shade of a willow that trailed branches into the lake and ate in silence for a while, enjoying the play of the sun on the water and the small sound made by crickets in the bushes.
“Why did you bring me here, Lorena?” Tyree finally asked the question he’d been turning over in his mind since they’d left the ranch. “Last night you did everything but accuse me of being a cold-blooded killer, and now we’re having a picnic together.”
The girl shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to share my secret place with you. The lake is small, but it is lovely, isn’t it?”
Tyree nodded. “It sure is, but the lake isn’t the reason you brought me here.”
Lorena turned to him, her troubled eyes finding his. “You’re right. It’s not the reason. Chance, I wanted to talk to you about Quirt Laytham.”
Tyree stiffened. “What about him?”
“I want you and Quirt to be friends.” She held up her hand. “I know, I know, mistakes were made, but nothing that can’t be undone.”
A small anger flared in Tyree. “You’re blinded by him, aren’t you, Lorena? You can’t see past the good looks and flashy clothes to the man underneath. I was a stranger passing through, but I was hung by men acting on Laytham’s orders. I’d have strangled to death if Owen hadn’t found me. And what about him? What about Owen? Laytham wants him dead so he can claim his few acres of grass. Tell me, what kind of a man thinks that way? How can greed and the desire for power possess a man so badly that he’ll kill everybody in his path to get what he wants?”
Tyree dropped the piece of cake
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