“Wyatt, go tuck that buckboard off the trail somewhere, unhitch it, and bring the crate.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes at John’s bossy ways, but John didn’t notice. Instead, bird in hand, he swung up onto his horse and followed Falcon.

Wyatt was a while getting going, so Molly waited, thinking it only polite. She also didn’t think they should leave him behind.

They’d known they might end up leaving the wagon, so Wyatt came back into sight on his saddled and bridled stallion, the crate awkwardly balancing on his lap.

He smiled at her. A warm kind of smile that she was learning was just for her.

Wyatt drew up beside her. “We still need to have a talk.”

“Yes, we do.”

With a little shake of his head, he said, “Now’s not the time. You go ahead. I’ll bring up the rear.”

Molly turned to follow John. To her surprise all three lead riders had vanished from sight.

Her horse went along as if he could see them. He picked steps out of rough spots on a trail that looked sheer. The horse was calm and didn’t hesitate at all, as if the trail were wide and smooth. Molly did her best not to distract the horse by doing anything with the reins. The horse was definitely better left in charge.

From behind her, Wyatt said, “You knew where to find that safe, Molly. We really needed you, but I wish we’d left you back in Bear Claw Pass where it was safer.”

Molly smiled. “I always feel safe with you, Wyatt.”

Kevin came awake on a shout. He lurched to his feet. His head spun until he grabbed at the desk in the jailhouse to keep from falling back to the floor.

A man charged into the jail holding a rifle. The rifle made Kevin think of his gun. Hanging on to the desk, he bent low and fetched it from under the desk, then turned, ready to fight Hawkins and Kingston for his wife.

The man who came in was neither. The newcomer said, “I’ll send for a doctor. We’re gathering a posse to go after them.” The man wheeled around and was gone before Kevin got his gun leveled.

Then he saw the empty jail cell, door swung wide. He heard a moan behind him and looked around, still clinging to the desk, to see Sheriff Gatlin unconscious on the floor but alive. No sign of Win or Rachel anywhere.

Kevin straightened. Found his knees could hold him and staggered for the door. A posse was a great idea. But he wasn’t waiting for anyone to gather anything.

Outside, he yelled, “Which way did they go?”

One man pointed northwest. “Been gone a few minutes is all.”

Someone else said, “You’re bleeding bad, mister. Better let the doc fix you up.”