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grunted out between a punch to his side and a kick to his thigh. He managed to shove the attacker and scramble to his knees.
    “No habla ingles,” the man gritted out after Nick landed a right to his jaw.
    “That’s funny.” They rolled, exchanging places again. “You sound more Texan than I do.”
    The man smiled wide, swinging and missing. Now on his back, Nick bent a leg and kicked out with his boot. He tried to stand but the man jerked him back by the collar, pulling Nick hard enough to send him headfirst over the edge of the path.
    The back of his skull smashed into a rock or tree root as he alternately rolled and slid. He dragged his body to a stop in time to see the man on horseback ready to bolt, no doubt back to his compadres . On Nick’s horse.
    “See you later, gringo .” His yellowed teeth showed lots of ugly as he dropped Nick’s cell off the cliff and left him on foot.
    Nick relaxed and took some deep breaths. Not only would he have a hell of a headache, he’d also never live it down if he walked all the way back to the ranch. He’d be teased from now till he was gray and rocking on his porch. Especially by Beth.
    No phone. Alone. On foot. He could still find out where the bastards were and what they had with them this time. He was a determined tracker and wouldn’t give up until he found them.
    Ironically, the man who’d shot him in the back and nearly killed him was the same man who had taught him how to track as a teenager. The same man who had betrayed them all and claimed he wasn’t the only ranch hand working for the cartel.
    Could Beth’s secondhand knowledge help him learn to trust again? He doubted it. But if she could get the nightmares to stop so his mom wasn’t frightened any longer, that would be enough reason to help her learn to ride a horse.
    On the plus side, if Beth wanted to pretend to be romantically involved... Holding a good-looking woman in his arms wasn’t a bad thing. Might be nice. Having one who knew and believed in the no-strings attached clause was even better. Hell, he could pretend to be working on his next broken heart just as much as she could.
    His back was stiffer from sleeping on the hard ground than after the bullet last year. Almost a full year. He shook off the building dread.
    The trail wasn’t difficult to follow. It led straight to the canyon. He shimmied on his belly until he got to the rim, keeping hidden behind scrub. He spotted his stallion off in the far corner. And there they were.
    They hadn’t bothered camouflaging anything. Three men, one wearing a blue ball cap, stood around a couple of ATVs with small satchels attached.
    Money this time? Had to be since there wasn’t much cargo. Money would be used to purchase guns that would be sent back to Mexico. Two men guarded an ancient-looking helicopter, rifles pointed to the edge of the cliffs, waiting and ready to open fire.
    They used the helicopter to fly low through the mountains, loaded the money onto the ATVs and met up with someone else who got on the highway and away from their county as fast as possible. The rest of the distribution process wasn’t complicated. They found legit citizens who still had relatives in Mexico, threaten them with harm until they bought the guns and gave them back.
    Nick had done his research. It seemed an endless cycle that no one could stop. Too big to tackle. He wanted to charge down the cliff and attack. Then what? He needed his horse and wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d kept his word to his parents.
    He sat tight until both the ATVs started and took off. Minutes later, the chopper warmed up and did the same. Time for Nick to go.
    Those men had rifles and could pick him off if they caught him in the open. He scrambled under the brush, praying his luck would improve and the chopper would head the opposite direction. When he couldn’t hear the echoes any longer, he zigzagged down the path and retrieved his horse.
    “At least I’m not walking, but we