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paint. 
Garrett shut his mouth and hobbled over to Del, who offered him a hand up onto
the back of his horse.
    Garrett was the one
who’d burned her house down.   Josie ground her teeth together as she
recalled a boy she went to school with by the name of Jimmy Garrett. He’d been
a shy kid, and everyone had called him Slim Jim because he’d been so tall and
spindly.  She hadn’t seen Jimmy in years, but now she was sure it was the
same person.  He had destroyed her home and now he suffered from a busted
foot.  “What goes around comes around, Slim Jim,” she mumbled under her
breath.  “That’s what you get for turning to a life of crime.”
    Traveler twitched
beneath her.  She patted his neck and prayed for him to stay silent. When
she looked up, she saw Kendall staring into the thicket.  Even in the
dark, she could feel his cold eyes searching her out. She didn’t dare move a
muscle.
    Del broke the
silence.  “We lost her, Wade.  She’s long gone.  What are we
gonna do now?”
    The marshal’s
voice sounded as hard as gravel. “I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. 
We’re gonna go back to Dry Gulch and get some fresh horses.”
    “Then what?” Slim
Jim inquired.  His legs dangled below Del’s horse’s belly, and he leaned
back with his hands planted on the paint’s rump.
    “Then tomorrow
morning, we’re returning for her.  She has no home left.  Her pa’s
dead.  That young thing won’t know where to go or what to do. She won’t
get far.  We’ll find her, and we’ll take what we came for tonight.”
    Del spoke up
again.  “What if we don’t find her?  She’s a mighty good rider. 
She’s probably already miles down the road.”
    “Then, we’ll track
her,” Kendall growled.  “She’s just an itty bitty girl. Do you really
think she can outsmart three grown men?”
    Del and Garrett both gazed
at the fourth man, Harp, who was slung over his horse. Obviously the marshal
didn’t count on him being of much service the next morning.
    “I grew up with that
girl,” Del informed Wade.  “She knows every inch of this forest and the
desert beyond.  She’s been on her own a long time.  Josie’s basically
raised herself.  She’s smarter than you might think.”
    It was evident by
Kendall’s response that he’d heard enough excuses.  His voice was as thick
as grit.  “As I said, we’ll follow her prints.”
    Del, apparently not
knowing when to shut up, dared to disagree further. “Are you sure we shouldn’t
keep moving tonight and try to flush her out?  I don’t know about you two,
but I ain’t that good of a tracker.”
    “Me neither,” Slim Jim
said.  “Harp’s one of the best trackers I know, but I guess he won’t be of
much use.  I doubt he’ll even live through the night.”  He and Del
took another gander at the bleeding, unconscious man hanging over his horse
like a sack of potatoes. 
    “Damned idiot should have
known better than to get himself trampled,” Del said, disgusted.
    Garrett vehemently
protested.  “Are you calling me an idiot cause I got a broke
foot?  You’d better not shoot your mouth off again or I’ll whip you.” He
slapped Del upside the head with his hand.
    “Why you…” Del twisted
around in his saddle and raised his fist to hit back.
    “Shut up!  Both of
you!” Kendall bellowed.
    The two of them shut up,
and Del lowered his hand.
    The marshal’s horse danced
in a circle.  When it settled, Kendall said, “I’m fully aware of the fact
that neither of you can track the horse shit on your boots.  That’s why
I’m gonna be hiring Reno King.”
    From behind the
relative safety of the thicket, Josie smothered a gasp.  Everyone knew
Reno King was the best tracker west of the Mississippi.  He never failed
to find his man. And, in most cases she’d heard about, it didn’t matter to King
whether he brought that man in dead or alive.
    “What makes you
think you can enlist Reno King?” Del asked with