Eric reined up his horse and looked around. They were at the edge of the thick stand of pines that clung to the north side of the slope. His eyes methodically scanned the open area and then the sky. Finally he clucked softly and nudged the horse with his heels. The mare flicked her ears once, then reluctantly moved forward into the bright sunshine. Nicole’s horse followed without urging. Cricket raced forward ahead of them and disappeared over the ridge into a clump of heavy brush.

Nicole drew in a quick breath and stared, the numbing weariness momentarily forgotten as her eyes drank in the panorama before them. Spread out as far as the eye could see to the north and west was a lush carpet of deep green, rolling over gentle hills, surrounding a turquoise jewel of a lake, then racing up steep mountainsides and spilling over the top. A glint of the afternoon sunshine caught her eye, and she could see a thin ribbon of silver at least a mile below them. It was the North Fork of the Flathead River, which they had forded shortly after dawn.

Above them, towering monolithic peaks propped up a sky so incredibly blue as to hurt the eyes. Jagged spots of glaring white signaled the location of several small glaciers clinging to the twisted, convoluted cliffs as they tried to stave off the steady, hungry embrace of the August sunshine.

For almost a full minute they both sat transfixed, and then Eric spoke. “I always thought our valley was about the prettiest place on the earth, but I think this tops it.”

Nicole didn’t answer, his voice bringing her sharply back to the where and why of reality. Then Eric turned and gave her an appraising look. “How are you doing? Are you about ready to stop?”

Pride is a seductive master. By dawn, after only three hours in the saddle, she had felt as though her backside had been pounded steadily with a heavy wooden paddle. By ten she had decided that the horse knew that every inch of her from the hips down was one combined mass of searing agony and was deliberately walking stifflegged to add to her misery. By noon she was praying fervently that lightning, or some other act of God, would strike either her or Eric or the horse—preferably in that order. But when she heard Eric’s question, her head came up, her jaw jutted out, and her eyes were defiant. “I’m fine. Don’t stop for me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. I’m doing fine.”

“Good.” He squinted up into the sky. “I figure we should make it to our base camp by late tonight, another six or seven hours maybe.”

Nicole barely stifled a groan. “Whatever you say.” Her chin came up defiantly as she sensed his probing gaze.