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striving for their dream than in a tent without hope. Tomorrow is Sunday. We will rest then.”
    For a few moments Chance walked beside the minister, trying to understand the logic of these strong, stubborn people. They had a dream of freedom and wide open space. Their dream had been his to hold all his life and he’d never placed much value in it. Chance wondered if they knew the price of such determination. Half of them looked like they might die before ever reaching their land, and those who survived this journey would find only hardship. This life they all longed for would rip the hearts out of those who were weak and crippled—out of all but the strongest. This land called Texas was wild and beautiful, but it could turn deadly in the time it took an Indian to string his bow.
    Only when the afternoon sky turned from a yellowy gray to the color of smoke did the reverend call a halt to the march. The carts were abandoned for the night and each family spread out tents under the protection of nearby trees and huddled together inside their shelters. A few fires sputtered to life but most families were too tired to bother with an evening meal.
    Chance walked through the encampment, wishing he could help, but the help of a hundred men probably wouldn’t make a difference. He’d seen cattlemen who’d worked without sleep for weeks who didn’t look as exhausted as these people. The sudden need to reach Anna and make sure she was all right became a pounding in his chest.
    He found her sitting on the wet grass, her tent still rolled and bound in a bundle beside her. In her arms she cradled her carpetbag like a child holding onto a favorite pillow.
    “Anna?”
    Red, fever-ridden eyes looked up at him.
    Chance knelt close. Her face was ghostly pale and her lips were colorless in the cold air. “Anna, why didn’t you put up your tent?”
    “It doesn’t help the cold,” she whispered. “I didn’t put it up last night, or the night before.”
    Chance looked around and realized that the others seemed to ignore Anna. They all had their own families, their own problems. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close. Even through her wet clothes he could feel the fever in her body. “How long have you been sick?”
    She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder.
    “How long?” Chance demanded as he bit his glove off his hand and rubbed her cheek with his warm fingers.
    Anna shook her head. “From the day after the rain started. I’ll be all right. I just want to sit here and rest.” She looked up at him as if she’d never seen him before. “If I die, promise you’ll bury me. We had a woman die yesterday and I heard someone say that we weren’t taking the time to stop and bury any more.”
    Pulling her into his arms, Chance tried to warm her with his own body. He was used to living out in the weather. He’d been without a roof over his head most nights since he was twelve. But not Anna. “You’re not going to die, Anna.”
    Her watery green eyes met his as she slowly shook her head. “I don’t want to be left by the road in the mud. Promise me you’ll bury me and say a prayer.”
    Her words ripped a hole in his heart as big as his fist. “You’re going to be fine. I’m not going to let you die.”
    Anna leaned against his arm and closed her eyes. The rain dripped from her hood and tapped against her face, but she didn’t seem to feel it.
    “Stay here.” He pressed his cheek against hers. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
    She nodded as he stood. Without looking up at him she lowered her head to her knees.
    Bolting onto his horse, Chance kicked the animal hard. Within minutes he was out of sight of the camp and riding north toward the break in the cliffs.

Chapter 4
    A nna no longer felt the rain tapping against her hood and the icy drops running down her face. She closed her eyes and thanked God she didn’t have to walk any farther in the mud. Sleep’s thick fog was clouding her mind