“This is beautiful,” she whispered, running her fingers over the sun-dried clay bricks.

  “My uncle built this twelve years ago when he’d had enough of civilization and wanted to go back to his roots. I was able to help him one summer while I was home from college.” Hawke’s quiet voice came from over her left shoulder, the only sound vying with the wind howling through the narrow canyon below. “This fits him better than living in San Angelo.”

  “He lived in town?”

  “Yeah, in the house I use when I stay there.”

  “There’s a storm brewing.” His uncle pulled open his wooden door and strode into his abode.

  “C’mon. We need to get inside.” Hawke swept his arm out to indicate she go first.

  The second she entered with Hawke right behind her, she came to a stop and surveyed the primitive but beautiful room before her. A large area expanded all the way back to the cliff face. The floor was smooth rock, covered occasionally with woven, multicolored rugs. Indian murals, conveying different scenes from the past, covered the adobe walls. One opening, a blanket concealing what lay beyond, led off to the right and another to the left. A fire lit the spacious main room. Other than that the only other illumination was an oil lantern sitting on a low table with stacks of large pillows around it. Besides that piece of furniture, there were two comfortable-looking chairs, made from tree limbs, by the fireplace.

  “Sit.” Hawke’s uncle gestured toward the pillows, took the lantern off the table, then sauntered toward the opening on the left.

  When he pushed the blanket to the side, Kit saw what looked like a crude kitchen. “He doesn’t say much,” she said as she turned back to Hawke.

  “No, he never did. That’s why this suits him. He’s comfortable with himself.”

  Kit eased down onto the thick pillows, feeling as though she had stepped back into the past. As a historian, the thought excited her. “I don’t think I could do this for very long. I need to be around people.”

  “You aren’t content with where you are in your life?”

  “I didn’t say that. I enjoy my alone time, but I also like to be around others.”

  “There’s something to be said about this kind of life with no trappings of the modern world to burden you.”

  She gestured at the room. “You could do this?”

  “For about a week.” Laughter wove through his voice, and the sides of his eyes crinkled in a smile.

  “So you aren’t content with where you are in your life?”

  He pinned her with a sharp look, all evidence of humor gone from his expression. “I like my work.”

  “I didn’t ask that.”

  Vulnerability crept into his dark eyes. His regard delved into her for a few seconds before he twisted away and squinted toward the left, pushing himself to his feet. “Here, let me help you.”

  “Sit, boy.” His uncle shuffled toward the table with a crude wooden tray laden with food.

  The feast he presented surprised Kit. How could he fix something like this so quickly? Cooked meat sat on a bed of rice on top of a plate that was a piece of flat bread. A clay pitcher was accompanied by a bowl of some kind of berries and another one with what appeared to be slices of steamed cacti.

  After Gus took his seat and poured a light-brown liquid into cups and put them in front of her and Hawke, he asked, “Why are you here?”

  After blessing her food, Kit lifted her gaze to Hawke’s uncle. “I’m the reason we’re here. Hawke’s taking me into Desolation Canyon.”

  His uncle didn’t say a word, but his attention zeroed in on his nephew.

  “Kit is a history professor at the same college as Zach. She’s looking for the Lost City of Gold.” Hawke sipped his tea.

  Kit gripped her fork, preparing herself for the older man’s ridicule. Instead, a thoughtful expression carved deeper lines into his sun-darkened skin.

  “I see.” Again Gus’s shrewd regard took her in. “Do you have an area in mind?”

  His question drew her forward. Clasping the side of the table, she leaned into it. “Yes. I think it’s connected to the mission Hawke found. The Spanish often built their missions on top of Indian structures.”

  “So you think it’s under the old mission ruins?” Gus asked.

  “Or somewhere near. The Indians would have selected the most strategic place in the canyon. The Spanish would be drawn to that, too.”

  “At the mission I found pottery shards and other evidence of the Indians’ presence about the site, but nothing to indicate a City of Gold.” Gus drank from his cup.

  “Hawke, you didn’t tell me this. There are probably Indian ruins under the mission.” Irritation strengthened her voice.

  “Which, as you’ve said before, isn’t unusual.”

  “None of that makes any difference.” Gus turned to Hawke. “The spring rains two years ago changed the canyon. Flooded part of it. The old way to go in is gone.”

  Hawke straightened. “It’s shut off completely now?”

  “No, but the way is harder.” Gus glanced toward her. “Rough, nearly impossible terrain.”

  “But not impossible?” Kit’s fingernails dug into the wooden table.

  “No, but it would be for you.” Gus began eating his food.

  Although Kit wanted to pursue the conversation, a look from Hawke warned her to be quiet. She concentrated on eating her meat dish, but the knot forming in her stomach limited her appetite. She hadn’t come all this way to turn back now.

  * * *

  After the silent dinner, Kit escaped outside to gather her scattered thoughts. She heard Hawke talking to his uncle, their low murmurs communicating a heated discussion between them. Hugging her arms to her, she moved out from the safety of the overhang, welcoming the cool wind whipping past her. A scent of rain hung in the air.

  Lord, You didn’t bring me here only to have me go back. What do I do? I need Your help.

  Lightning flashed in the dark sky to the south. Thunder rumbled around her, causing the stones beneath her to vibrate. Although cold, she couldn’t bring herself to go back into the house.

  She sat near the edge with her legs curled up against her chest. Her hair danced about her as she stared into the blackness beyond the cliff. A few droplets splashed on her, but still she didn’t want to return to the house and learn that Hawke was taking her back tomorrow.

  Another bright streak ionized the air, followed by a loud boom. She quaked and tightened her arms around her jeans-clad legs. The wind smelled of charred wood as if the lightning had struck a tree nearby.

  Hawke folded his long length on the ground next to her, his gaze trained on a spot in the distant night. “It’s going to rain soon. You need to come inside.”

  “I know.” She didn’t move nor did he.

  The elements raged to the south of her, more strikes hitting the ground, more explosive sounds rolling down the canyon below her. Rain splattered the ledge at the far end.

  When the sky brightened for a few seconds, she caught sight of the other side of the narrow, steep gorge. The rocky facade appeared afire for that brief moment in time. Then darkness blinked in around her again, giving her a feeling she and Hawke were the only two people in the world.

  “My uncle doesn’t want to show me the new way to get into the canyon.”

  The words she’d dreaded electrified the air as if the lightning had blasted the stone surface between them. “Can’t we try the old way?”

  “No.”

  * * *

  The Guardian brought the night-vision-equipped binoculars to his eyes and stared up at Kit sitting on the cliff with him. Anger spoiled her beautiful features, reflecting the expression on his face.

  He wished he knew what they were saying, but one thing was for sure. Kit wasn’t happy with Lonechief.

  It was a good thing he had followed them since this morning. He would get rid of the man before something awful happened to Kit.

  Cold rain pelted him, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t take his attention off her. When they slept, he would climb to the top of the mesa in front of them and position himself across from the overhang. His opportunity would come in the morning. Beneath his slicker, he patted his high-powered rifle, confident he wouldn’t miss Lonechief.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The crack of the rifle drove all other sounds from Kit’s mind. The sight of him collapsing before her drenched her in shocked helplessness. Stumbling forward…

  Kit’s eyes snapped open. Her chest heaved, darkness enveloping her. Panic permeated her. Her panting resonated through the complete silence.

  Where am I?

  Not the church.

  Just the nightmare. Again.

  When she forced herself up onto her elbows, trying to see into her inky surroundings, the softness beneath her prodded her memory.

  I’m in Hawke’s uncle’s bedroom. They’re in the main room.

  Slowly the panic receded; the heart-pounding fear vanished. Easing back onto the stack of animal pelts that served as Gus’s bed, Kit dragged deep, calming breaths into her lungs, orienting herself to the present.

  Hawke had said he would talk to his uncle, see if he could convince him to take them at least as far as the entrance into Desolation Canyon. She prayed he was successful.

  Someone cleared his throat on the other side of the blanket that covered the opening. “Kit?”

  “Yes?” She sat up.

  Hawke peered into the room, the light he held casting his features in a golden glow. “We’re leaving. You need to get up, get dressed.” He placed the lantern on the floor by the opening to the outer room.

  “What time is it?”

  “Four.”

  “In the morning! It’ll be dark.”

  “I know, but Gus has agreed to take us to the canyon. He says we need to be there by noon and through the narrow gorge that leads us into it.”

  “Why the rush?” She swung her legs to the floor, trying not to picture descending the stairs to the overhang in the dark. One false move and—She quaked.

  “Because of the increased chance of a thunderstorm occurring. We have to be through the gorge.”

  “Why?” She rose, dressed in her sweatshirt and jeans that she’d slept in.

  “You don’t want to be caught in a flash flood.”

  Another tremor slithered down her spine. She’d heard of the danger of a flash flood. “This gorge is a riverbed?”

  “Not exactly. One of the only places the water can leave the canyon fast is through this narrow ravine, hence we don’t want to be caught in it if it rains even miles away.”

  He left the lantern with her so she could get ready, which didn’t take long as she’d worn her clothes to bed. When she entered the main room, Gus hefted his pack onto his back, then went out through the front door.

  Her stomach rumbled. “No coffee, breakfast?”

  “We’ll eat on the move when it gets light.” Hawke followed his uncle from the dwelling.

  After digging out her flashlight, Kit hurried to do likewise. Stumbling on an uneven surface, she caught herself before going down onto her knees. She quickly looked at the two men and noticed that Gus had witnessed her mishap. Straightening her backpack, she set her features in a determined expression and ignored his penetrating gaze.

  Gus went first down the side of the cliff without the use of a light to illuminate his way.

  When he’d been gone a few minutes, Hawke approached her near the edge. “It’s your turn. Use your flashlight. I’ll be right behind you.” He tied a rope around her, then fastened it to him. “This is only a precaution.”

  Relieved at the security line, Kit backed down the steps, gingerly feeling for the next one as she made her descent. Although a chill clung to the night, sweat poured off her, dripping into her eyes. Pausing, she blinked and rubbed her face along the top of her sweatshirt sleeve.

  “Okay?”

  Even though she couldn’t see Hawke’s expression, she heard the concern in his question. “Fine.” Even if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have admitted it to him.

  When her foot settled on the firm ground at the bottom of the ravine, she sighed and crumpled against the wall. She tried to untie the rope around her, but her hands trembled. Finally giving up, she waited for Hawke to sever their connection.

  He slipped the link off himself first, then her. Coiling the rope, he stuffed it in his backpack. After Gus clicked on his flashlight, he started down the chasm at a fast clip. Hawke indicated she go next. She hurried to keep up, centering all her attention on the small patch of lit ground in front of her.

  The sound of something bouncing off the wall of the narrow canyon caused her to stop. She stared in the direction of the noise as a medium-size rock landed a few feet from her.

  “Keep moving,” Hawke said.

  “But that—” she shone her light on the stone with a diameter of about six inches “—almost hit us.”

  “Almost doesn’t count. Gus is already halfway down the ravine.”

  In her book “almost” counted, but she wasn’t going to argue with Hawke. She knew the dangers.

  * * *

  The rock he’d accidentally knocked off the top of the mesa hit the floor of the ravine below him, nearly striking Kit. The Guardian rose and wanted to let out a scream of frustration.

  They left in the middle of the night!

  Regretting his need for sleep, he smashed his fist into his palm, wishing it were Lonechief’s face. Now he had to follow the trio. The murderer should be dead in a few hours when the sun came up.

  Kit was causing him a lot of trouble, and he wasn’t even sure at the moment if she appreciated it.

  * * *

  Out in the open with nothing to shade her, Kit pulled the hat down lower on her head to shield her as much as possible from the blazing sun. Trudging behind Gus, she twisted the cap off her canteen, then took a long swig.

  Up ahead jagged peaks and mesas dominated the landscape, their height daunting. The sun rays set them afire, an orange-red radiance to the rocks.

  “Is that our destination?” she asked, peering back at Hawke a few paces behind her.

  “Yep.”

  She checked her watch. “It’s eleven. We’ll make it in time.”

  Hawke studied the cloudless sky around them. “I don’t think we needed to worry, but it never hurts to be cautious.”

  She hated asking for a favor, but after walking nearly eight hours, she needed to rest. “This time can we sit while we eat our lunch?”

  “Hungry?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I think I was hungry right after our breakfast.”

  Laughter pealed from him. “We’ll rest. I think we can afford to do that.” He pointed toward the shade of the cliff. “We’ll stop up there where it’s cooler.”

  Cooler was good. She’d shed her sweatshirt not long after the sun had risen. Body lavished with sunscreen, she still made it a point to walk in any shaded area she encountered.

  Twenty minutes later, as they approached a narrow gap in the cliff, Hawke said, “Gus, let’s rest and eat lunch before heading into the canyon.”

  The old man started to say something, contemplated Kit for a few seconds and shrugged. “Half an hour. No more.”

  The moment the shadow of the mesa encompassed her, she collapsed onto a small boulder and dropped her chin against her chest. Her body ached in places she hadn’t realized it could. Even when she had been working out preparing for this trek, she hadn’t hurt this much. Her muscles objected in fatigue, but she wouldn’t say a word to Hawke. He was only here because of her.

  After a couple of minutes she tore into her backpack and withdrew her lunch, a peanut butter and honey sandwich, a power bar and water. Hawke sank down near her while Gus disappeared in the thin opening in the wall.

  “My uncle’s going to check things out.”

  “If we need to go, we can,” she reluctantly said, finishing the last bite of her sandwich in a hurry.

  “No, you rest for now. Gus isn’t one to sit for long.”

  “Try not at all.”

  Hawke chuckled, then took a sip of his water. “Yeah, that kinda sounds like him. He wanted to look over the gorge first.”

  “He’s amazing. How old is he?”

  “Seventy-five.”

  Kit’s mouth dropped open. The wiry little man had more energy than she did at thirty. “When I get back, I’m going to start exercising every day. I can’t let a seventy-five-year-old man run rings around me. Don’t tell my friends. It would be embarrassing.”

  “How do you think I feel? I’ve had to live it down all my life.”

  Kit stared into Hawke’s sheepish expression and burst out laughing. “Somehow I don’t think it’s been a problem for you. I have a feeling you’ve been able to hold your own with him.”

  Gus returned and sat across from them. “There’s evidence of a recent flood. Finish up. Let’s go.”

  “What if we encounter a flash flood?” Kit stuffed the last bite of her power bar into her mouth.

  “You won’t be able to outrun it so try to get to high ground, if possible.” Hawke capped his water canteen and stood, rolling his shoulders.

  “I’m ready.” Reluctantly Kit pushed to her feet, stretching to ease the tenseness in her muscles.

  Again she fell into step behind Gus, with Hawke taking up the rear. When she entered the narrow cut in the stone face of the cliff, she immediately scanned the area for high ground. But sheer rocky surfaces shot up toward the thin patch of baby-blue sky she glimpsed overhead.

  “This is a canyon?” Able to touch both sides of the ravine at the same time if she stretched out her arms, she hurried her pace to keep up with Gus.

  “Gus told me some seismic activity opened this up when he was a young man, and over the years the water has further eroded it into what we have now.”

  The thought of an earthquake occurring while surrounded by all this rock almost trumped her fear of a flash flood happening. Her steps quickened even more until she was only a few feet from Gus. A couple hundred yards up ahead the area widened, and she discovered some higher ground where some boulders had fallen. In a stubby tree growing out of a crack in the stone facade above her, a water-smoothed, dead branch hung on a limb as though it had been snatched up as a flood raced by.