From "Chapter One"1871, Arizona Territory
Someone had been on his back trail for most of the day. He had seen a telltale flash of light in the distance when he had stopped for grub around noon, just a tiny bright flicker that had lasted only a split second, but that had been enough to alert him. Maybe it had been the sun glinting off a buckle or a shiny spur. Whoever was back there had been just a little careless, and now they had lost the advantage of surprise.
Rafe McCay hadn't panicked; he had continued to ride as if he had nowhere in particular to go and all the time in the world to get there. It would be getting...