Miranda followed him across the wide valley of yellow grass, bending against the wind until they came closer to the cliffs. Huge red rocks lay sprawled and scattered across the edge of the valley, pieces that had broken away from the brittle cliffs above and tumbled into the valley.
They approached the opening, and Jake took out his rifle and raised it, waving it at someone above. With one hand he fired into the air once as a signal, then put the rifle back in its boot. It was only then that Miranda realized they were being watched. She looked up to see three men, one not far away behind a rock, two more at the top of the cliff, all of them brandishing rifles. She shivered, wondering if they could be Latimer’s men. She told herself not to be afraid. After all, this was for Lloyd, and she was with Jake.
Once she started up the steep pathway toward the mesa above, she was sheltered from the wind. Jake had been right. The climb was treacherous and at times terrifying. There was nothing to do but depend on the sure-footedness of their horses. Miranda paid no attention to the fact that here and there a man lurked in rocky crags on the way up, silent eyes, watching. One could only concentrate on getting to the top without a devastating fall. She understood now what Jake had meant about one man being able to hold off an army here. There was room only for one man at a time to come through. No wonder lawmen seldom tried to penetrate this place. It would be suicide.
They finally reached the top, and Jake stopped for a moment to turn to her. “You all right?”
She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I am now, but I don’t relish the trip back down.” She huddled into her jacket. The view up here was magnificent, but it was high and windy and cold. She noticed Jake buttoning the top button of his sheepskin jacket, and he coughed as he took his rifle from its boot again. She worried about the pneumonia returning if he breathed too much of this cold air.
Jake took a careful look around. “Doesn’t look like there are many up here today.”
“I saw some men watching us on the way up.”
“They always keep a lookout for lawmen. Hell, the Wild Bunch uses these places to hide out. Probably ninety-five percent of the men you’ve seen since we got to Brown’s Park are wanted for something. Lawmen have tried getting into these places before and died in their efforts.”
She thought about the fact that Jake was going to be one of those lawmen someday soon. She told herself she couldn’t let herself worry about it. After all, he at least knew how such men think and behave, and he was better than any of them with a gun.
Jake was watching a man in the distance mount his horse. “Sit tight,” he told her. “They’ll want to check us out.” The man began riding toward them, and as he drew closer, Miranda shivered at the look in his eyes. He wore a long, woolen duster, with gun belts crisscrossed over his chest, a shotgun in his hand. He chewed on a thin cigar that looked like it wasn’t burning anymore.
“Ain’t seen you around before, mister,” he snarled at Jake. “You wouldn’t be wearin’ a badge under that jacket, would you?”
“If I was, would I have my wife with me?”
The man’s cold, dark eyes moved to Miranda. “I expect not.”
“Is there a man around here by the name of Jube Latimer?”
The man looked him over. “What’s it to you?”
“In these parts a man minds his own business.”
The man watched Jake’s eyes. “Jube ain’t here. Him and his men are at his ranch north of here.”
“How about Lloyd Harkner? Anybody seen him around here lately?”
To Miranda’s surprise, a look of respect suddenly came into the man’s eyes. He lowered his shotgun. “I’ll bet you’re Jake Harkner, ain’t you?”
“I am.”
“Ol’ Charlie said he’d heard you was let out of prison. He also said you’d probably be comin’ through here lookin’ for your son.”
Miranda took hope in the words, and Jake lowered his own rifle. “You’ve seen him?”
The man nodded. “You’re a couple of days late. Latimer fetched the boy out of here day before yesterday, and it wasn’t purty. You’ll be damn lucky to still find him alive, if you can even get into Latimer’s place without gettin’ your guts blown out. Charlie might be able to help you there.”
Miranda took hope in the word “help.” Lloyd! Latimer did have him. What had he done to her son?
“Who’s Charlie?”
“Charlie Tate. Said he knew you way back when you were gunrunnin’ in the war, hung around some with you and Jess York when you was out this way some years back. He likes to brag that he knows you. You remember him?”