"That's not what I'm asking."
"I know."
She mounted Juniper.
Samuel stepped back.
"Take the western road."
"Why?"
"Because the northern trail has narrow passes."
Catherine looked at him.
"Thank you."
Then she rode away.
She turned west.
Samuel watched until she disappeared around the church.
Across the street, Deputy Vane remained motionless.
Five minutes passed.
Then he walked into the sheriff's office.
Inside, he found Sheriff Amos Reddick seated behind a desk.
Reddick was a heavy man with a scar across his jaw.
"She left?"
"Yes."
"Which road?"
"West."
Reddick frowned.
"You're sure?"
Vane smiled.
"No."
The sheriff looked up.
Vane placed a folded piece of paper on the desk.
"She'll go north."
Reddick opened it.
A rough map.
A red circle marked a location beyond Cottonwood Bend.
"What does she keep there?"
Vane leaned back.
"Something worth killing for."
Neither man spoke.
Outside, Redemption Creek returned to its afternoon silence.
But Catherine Fletcher was already several miles away.
And she was not riding west.
She had turned north.
Not because Vane had guessed correctly.
Because she wanted to know who was following her.
She rode slowly.
The land opened around her.
The sun lowered.
Juniper's ears moved constantly.
Catherine reached beneath her coat and touched the revolver.
Then she heard it.
A distant hoofbeat.
One.
Then two.
Then silence.
She stopped.
The sound stopped too.
Catherine smiled.
"Not very good at this, are you?"
No answer.
She waited.
Then she rode on.
The trail entered a narrow canyon.
Catherine disliked it immediately.
Tall limestone walls rose on both sides.
Too many places to hide.
She slowed Juniper.
Her hand moved to the Winchester.
Then a voice came from ahead.
"Easy there."
A man stepped onto the trail.
Red scarf.
Brown coat.
Rifle.
Catherine stopped.
"Move."
The man smiled.
"That's not how this works."
Another rider appeared behind her.
Two men.
Both armed.
Catherine looked at the first.
"You've chosen a bad place."
"Funny. We thought the same about you."
"What do you want?"
"Money."
"You won't find much."
"Then we'll take the horse."
"And the rifle."
"And whatever's in the bags."
Catherine glanced toward the second man.
He was nervous.
That interested her.
The first man wasn't.
Professional.
Or pretending to be.
"Who sent you?"
The first man's smile vanished.
"Nobody sent us."
"Then you chose the wrong woman."
She fired.
The shot cracked against the limestone.
The first man's hat flew backward.
He ducked.
The second man reached for his pistol.
Catherine fired again.
The bullet struck the ground beside his horse.
The animal reared.
Catherine kicked Juniper forward.
The mare surged through the gap.
The first man fired.
A bullet tore through Catherine's coat.
Another struck the saddle.
Juniper bolted.
Catherine bent low.
She knew the land.
The men didn't.
That would save her.
She drove toward an old irrigation channel hidden beyond the rocks.
Behind her, gunfire echoed.
Then a mule screamed.
Catherine looked back.
The animal carrying her supplies collapsed.
Her heart sank.
She couldn't stop.
Not yet.
She rode until the canyon widened.
Then she jumped down.
Juniper was breathing hard.
Blood marked her flank.
A graze.
Catherine ran her hand across the wound.
"You're all right."