Margaret Daley

Forsaken Canyon


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for an adventure group who had taken people on trips into the wilderness around New Mexico and the surrounding states. If she couldn’t have Hawke Lonechief, he was the next best thing.

      Kit finished loading her red Honda. The darkness of predawn had lightened to a dim gray, but the sun was still hidden below the eastern horizon. Excitement surged through her at the idea she would be hiking toward Desolation Canyon in a couple of hours.

      Marcus Perry, dressed in his navy-blue jogging shorts and white T-shirt, came out onto his porch. She waved at her neighbor and friend. He loped toward her while pulling neon-orange sweatbands on his wrists. From the curious gleam in his eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away without telling him something.

      He glanced into her backseat. “Going camping in a certain canyon?”

      “I hope. But don’t say anything to anyone. You know what happened to the last guide I had.”

      “So Hawke Lonechief finally agreed.”

      “No. He still refuses, but this person should be good.”

      “Who’d you get this time?” Marcus began some limbering-up exercises.

      “Ronald Hoffman.” Even if Marcus ran into his house right now—which she didn’t see her friend doing—it was too late for Hawke to interfere. “He was in the news a few weeks ago. He found that family missing in the Carson National Forest.”

      “Yeah, I remember reading about him. But the big question is, does he know where you want to go?” Marcus touched his toes.

      “He hasn’t actually been there, but he’s very experienced at being a guide.”

      “Did I tell you I met him last Saturday night?”

      “Who? Ronald?”

      “No, Lonechief.” He lunged to each side. “Can’t be too careful.”

      “I agree. That’s why I checked this Ronald out and no one knows about what I’m doing today.”

      “Well, except me. But I wasn’t talking about your guide. I was talking about exercising. It’s so easy to pull a muscle, especially if you don’t limber up correctly.” He jogged in place. “I think I’m finally loosened up to start my run.”

      “That’s good, but what do you mean you saw Lonechief Saturday night? Did you go to the dedication ceremony?”

      “No, he came by here looking for you.”

      “He did?”

      “I caught him pounding on your front door, not too happy you weren’t home.”

      A picture of Hawke frustrated as he stalked back to his Jeep darted through her mind. Good! It served him right for scaring off her other guides. What if at this very moment he was hiking to the canyon to see if what she theorized was true? Now that she thought about it, just because he was Zach’s cousin didn’t mean she could trust him.

      Trust No One. That needed to be her new motto.

      “I’d better go. I don’t want to be late.”

      “Before you start hiking, make sure you limber up. I don’t want you to pull a muscle out there.” Marcus bent forward and kissed her on the cheek.

      She slid into her front seat and waved at her friend as he jogged down the street. When she backed out of her driveway, she couldn’t stop the feeling of urgency that overcame her. She navigated her car toward the highway that led out of town.

      Gold will make men do crazy things. Hawke’s words blared through her mind as she drove toward Black Horse Pass. Was Hawke one of those men who did crazy things because of money? When she really thought about everything, what did she know about Zach, who had recommended Hawke in the first place? Her past record where men were concerned wasn’t good. She’d had several serious relationships over the years. None spoke well of her ability to choose a man to spend the rest of her life with, especially the last two.

      The man she’d been serious with before Gregory only reinforced her conviction to stay away from serious relationships. Terry’s reckless driving while under the influence had caused a wreck that had injured a couple. This from a man who had condemned drinking of any kind. He had known how much she hated alcohol and why. What else had he been lying about? Certainly his protestations that he’d only had one drink at the bar. His blood alcohol had been way over the legal limit.

      She’d hoped they would eventually marry. What if she had and discovered Terry’s problem afterward? She didn’t have an answer to that question. Her parents had divorced, and she had promised herself she wouldn’t.

      Up ahead she saw the sign to Black Horse Pass. She turned off the highway onto the one-lane, washboard, dirt road. Slowing her speed drastically, she bounced along the stretch that led to her meeting place with Ronald Hoffman. Everything was in place. Part of the following week at school was for studying before finals—no classes. Exams didn’t start until next Thursday. She should be back in time to give the tests to her classes. Perfect timing.

      The sun sat on the horizon, a big yellow-orange ball. Streaks of red and purple threaded through the cloudless azure-blue sky. It was going to be hot today. She patted her canteen next to her on the seat. Granted she didn’t know a whole lot about hiking in desertlike conditions, but she did know about the importance of water and had brought a lot of extra, besides what was in the canteen.

      She pulled into a makeshift parking lot near a grouping of piñon trees at the end of the road. Climbing from her five-year-old Honda, she stroked its hood.

      “You got me here, although I doubt you appreciated me coming down that road.”

      She made a full circle, taking in the landscape. Behind her was the long dirt road. Ahead were towering mesas, the sun burning a path up their facade and turning the rock a yellow orange as though it was made of gold. Through the sheer cliffs wound a narrow trail, dotted with cacti, brush and juniper and piñon trees. Already the nippy bite of a desert night had evaporated, leaving behind the heat of a desert day.

      Hearing a screech, she observed the flight of a bald eagle, hunting for its next meal. It caught an air current and soared, disappearing behind a bluff. She hadn’t done something like this in years, but as a child she had enjoyed the family hikes—until her parents had gotten a divorce.

      She wasn’t alone. The Lord was with her.

      You created this beauty, Lord. Awesome. Magnificent. Give me the strength and ability to make it to Desolation Canyon. I need to know that I’m capable of doing this. Please show me, Lord. In Jesus Christ’s name. Amen.

      Lounging against the back of her car, she folded her arms across her chest and waited, her gaze trained on the road. She checked her watch. Ten minutes after seven.

      She wasn’t too worried. There were some places where the road had practically washed away from some of the recent spring rains. Ronald had probably not planned for that.

      But when Kit glanced at the time an hour later, she could no longer come up with an excuse why Ronald wasn’t at the pass. And she had given him some of the money ahead of time. No matter how much she told herself not to trust people, here she’d gone and put her belief in this man. When was she going to learn?

      She stomped to her passenger door and opened it. Grabbing the canteen, she took a swig of cool water to ease her dry throat. Her gaze caught sight of the manila envelope with pages of the detailed map in it. When she slid it out, she examined the area around Black Horse Pass. It didn’t look too tough to negotiate.

      After buying her equipment and coming out here, she could go a little ways and see what the trail was like. There shouldn’t be any harm in doing that.

      “Who knows? I might even be pretty good at hiking. I did okay once,” she muttered and opened her back door to get her pack and walking stick.

      She would go for an hour or so, then return to her car. She would find someone else to take her