He carried the pack over to where Kyle and the wrangler, Smiley Wilcox, a tough, stringy-looking cowboy in his sixties, with iron gray hair and a drooping mustache, were loading the mule panniers. Gage explained that the weight had to be evenly distributed on each side of the animals’ backs to keep the load from shifting.

Abby unslung her camera and began shooting video, documenting the beginning of what she was sure would be an epic journey, hopefully with a spectacular ending.

Just as they were ready to set out, Kyle noticed that Abby’s brown-and-white pinto had thrown a shoe.

“No worries,” Kyle said, flashing her a dimpled grin. “I’ve got it covered.” He quickly went into blacksmith mode and replaced the shoe, but the problem knocked them slightly off schedule.

As she watched the young cowboy work, she spotted Gage a few feet away. He was frowning, his jaw a hard line. Surely he wasn’t jealous of Kyle? Kyle was good-looking, but compared to Gage, he was still a boy.

Finally, they were ready to go, the mules and horses loaded into Walt’s big horse trailer for the drive down the road. Walt was behind the wheel of his dual-wheeled, extended-cab pickup, Kyle riding shotgun. Abby and Gage settled in the back seat, while Mateo rode with Smiley in the bed of the truck.

They headed for Lost Dutchman State Park, showed their permits, then drove up the road. Another few miles and the pickup turned off Apache Trail onto a dirt road winding up into the desert hills.

It was amazing country, with rugged vistas that stretched for miles, jagged mountains rising up from flat, endless desert, arid hills that climbed to rugged peaks.

When they reached the trailhead, Gage and Kyle unloaded the stock and checked the gear. Abby looked up to see Gage strapping on the big machete she had noticed among his gear, tying the sheath to his thigh.

Abby swung into the saddle of the pretty little paint named Sandy. Gage shoved his rifle into the scabbard on his saddle and swung up on a stout, thick-necked bay gelding named Cinnamon that everyone just called Sin. Abby thought the powerful horse was the perfect fit for Gage.

The horses began to sidestep and blow, eager to be on their way. Mateo settled into the saddle of a sorrel mare the color of a new copper penny. Abby smiled to think the animal’s coat was about the same shade as her hair.

Walt wished them luck and reminded Kyle to be careful.

“Stay in touch as much as you can,” he told his son. But cell service in the rugged mountains was spotty and unreliable at best. Gage had a satellite phone, but it was basically for emergencies.

They set out with Kyle in the lead, followed by Abby, Gage, then Mateo. Smiley brought up the rear, leading the pack mules.