Forsaken Canyon. Margaret Daley

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СКАЧАТЬ off her backpack and dropped it to the ground next to the rock. She would head back to the car after she rested a while. Using the white sleeve of her shirt, she wiped the sweat from her face, then her neck.

      When she reached for her bag to get a cloth to use, she froze. Slithering from the underside of the boulder was a rattlesnake, followed by several more.

      THREE

      Kit hasn’t come home. She was supposed to come back here. She’s out there without a guide. She can’t go to Desolation Canyon without the best there is.

      The Guardian paced from one end of the room to the other, kneading his hand along his nape. All kinds of horrible scenarios flashed through his mind. Lost and wandering around in circles. Collapsing from dehydration. Her body broken on the rocks after a fall.

      Why hadn’t she come back when Hoffman didn’t show up? How am I supposed to watch over her when she does things like go off by herself? One day I need to teach her a lesson.

      Frustration churned his stomach. But not today.

      He’d gone to some trouble to take care of Hoffman, the least she could do was cooperate and return to Albuquerque. He didn’t want her to go to the canyon without the best, and he’d checked out Hoffman. He wasn’t the best. His job as her guardian was becoming harder and harder. At least the tracking device on her car and the bug in her house helped him keep up with all her activities.

      She should appreciate the trouble he had to go to for her. One day she would. He withdrew from his pocket his untraceable cell to put in motion yet another rescue, suppressing the anger building in him.

      

      As Hawke pulled onto the road that led to his ranch, his cell rang. He slowed and flipped it open. “Lonechief.”

      “I’m so glad I got hold of you. Kit went to Desolation Canyon by herself this morning and hasn’t returned home yet.”

      Zach’s frantic tone infected Hawke with the seriousness of the situation. He glanced out of the windshield to the west, and his fear mushroomed. The sun had begun its descent. “Does the woman have a death wish?” His grip on his phone tightened until he was afraid he would snap it into halves.

      “From what I understand she had arranged for a guide to meet her at Black Horse Pass. He didn’t show up because he was in a wreck on his way there. There was a message on her machine at her office from one of Ronald Hoffman’s associates.”

      “That doesn’t mean she went in by herself.”

      “She never came by her office to hear the message, and she isn’t at her house, either. I hate to say this, but she probably got frustrated enough that she attempted it on her own. She can’t seem to find a reliable guide.”

      The censure in Zach’s voice hit its mark. Hawke made a U-turn and headed toward the highway and Black Horse Pass. “I’m on my way to see. Hopefully she decided to go off and do something tame like researching in a book.”

      “Normally I would say that Kit is a very tame person, but for some reason she has become driven with proving herself right.”

      “Have you tried calling her cell?”

      “For the past hour. No answer. Which doesn’t surprise me if she decided to hike into the area on her own. From here I can’t get there as fast as you can. Besides, you know that part of the country better than me.”

      Again Hawke peered toward the west. “I won’t be there much before dusk myself.”

      “That’s better than pitch-black.”

      “How’d you find out about this guide?”

      “Her neighbor is beside himself and he called me. The police came by to see Kit concerning the guide.”

      “The police! What’s going on?” Somehow Hawke managed to keep his fear for Kit from his voice, but not his worry.

      “They came by to see Kit because the guide’s office told them he was supposed to meet her at Black Horse Pass.”

      “But why are the police involved?”

      “Because Hoffman’s car accident wasn’t an accident. He was forced off the highway. He was found in a ravine off the road. Someone called the highway patrol and said he witnessed it early this morning.”

      “Did this someone leave a name?” Hawke gripped his cell, pain shooting down his arm.

      “No. He doesn’t want to get involved.”

      “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Any description of the car that forced Hoffman off the highway?”

      “A white truck. Nothing else.”

      “I’ll call you when I know something.”

      “Thanks. She’s been a big help to me this year. I don’t want anything happening to her.”

      Neither do I. Hawke switched off his cell and pressed his foot on the accelerator. Time was against him.

      An hour later, the sun halfway to the horizon, Hawke scrambled from his Jeep, parked next to the only other car at the end of the road near Black Horse Pass. Kit’s red Honda screamed to the world she had gone into the maze of canyons by herself. When he got his hands on her, she wouldn’t be too happy, and before he was finished, she would understand how dangerous her little stunt was.

      He grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and a canteen with water from his vehicle and started along the trail through the pass. Fresh indentions in the dirt indicated someone had passed through not long before. Someone with small feet. At least she was wearing hiking boots. He’d envisioned her in tennis shoes trying to negotiate the uneven, often pebbly ground.

      As he went farther along the path, the sun disappeared behind the tall mesas. He passed evidence of a new rockslide in the shadow of a bluff. With his flashlight, he checked to make sure she wasn’t pinned beneath a large stone.

      With the ticking off of the minutes, his heart hammered a shade faster. Heat, captured in the sandy dirt, floated upward to encircle him. Sweat coated his face and chest, his tan shirt soaked.

      Visions of Kit, hurt, possibly dead, haunted him with each step he took. Scenes from his past threatened to intrude, bringing with them the pain he usually kept suppressed. It had been four years ago that he had come this way. He had promised himself never again. And now, because of Kit Sinclair, he was breaking that promise. He thrust his memories away, determined to focus on his anger at her foolish actions.

      When he rounded the base of a sheer cliff, he saw her, off to the right in the dying daylight—or at least he thought it was her—lying crumpled on a boulder, not moving. His anger fled, to be replaced with the terror of four years ago all over again. He stumbled, nearly going to his knees. He couldn’t carry a second body out of here.

      Although it was cooling, now that the sun was behind the mesa to the west, sweat broke out on his forehead as he rushed toward her. A couple of yards from the boulder a rattling sound sent out a warning. He went still, checking his surroundings as he carefully slipped his revolver from its holster.

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