Everyone set to work. Kyle and Smiley had a practiced routine, Smiley caring for the livestock while Kyle readied the camp. As Gage unrolled the tarp for their sleeping bags, his gaze went in search of Abby.

He walked over to Kyle, who was scrounging wood for the fire. “Have you seen Abby?”

“She took her camera and went for a walk. Said she wanted to get some background shots before it got dark, said she wouldn’t go far.”

An uneasy feeling slipped through him. “Which direction?”

Kyle pointed toward a cluster of granite boulders just a few yards away. As soon as Gage rounded the boulders, he spotted her, standing stock-still not far away, every muscle rigid, the color leached out of her face.

Warning bells went off in his head. Gage heard the distinctive rattle, and his whole body tightened with dread. Kyle must have heard it, too. He dropped the armload of wood he was carrying and hurried toward them. Gage held up a hand, warning him back, and eased quietly closer.

“Don’t move,” he said softly, drawing the machete out of the sheath on his thigh. A diamond-back rattlesnake nearly as thick as his bicep hissed and rattled, coiled and ready to strike from its place on a rock ledge that was eye level with Abby’s face.

Gage eased close beside her, slowly raising the blade. “Stay exactly where you are.” For an instant, Abby’s eyes sliced to his, and he read her fear. Abby didn’t move, and Gage swung the blade, its deadly arc neatly severing the snake’s head from its thick body, sending it flying into the brush a few feet away.

Gage sheathed the knife with a metallic ring, took a couple of steps, and swept Abby into his arms.

“I’ve got you. Everything’s okay.”

Shaking all over, she burrowed into him and just held on. Gage tightened his hold. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kyle and Smiley drifting back to camp now that Abby was safe.

Gage took a deep breath, fighting images of Abby and the snake, trying not to think about what could have happened. Another deep breath and he managed to block the memory of the icy fear that had sliced through him when he’d seen the snake’s forked tongue slithering out, almost touching Abby’s lovely face.

She rested her cheek on his chest. “I was watching everywhere I walked. I-I didn’t think to look up at the ledge.”

He smoothed a hand over her hair. “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. Things happen in places like this.” Which was the reason he hadn’t wanted her to come along.

Abby eased away. “When I first saw you carrying that big knife, I thought it was overkill. You know what I mean? Now I’m very glad you had it.”