“I don’t know if she came to help me or finish what the trap started,” I gasped, hanging upside down from a tree in the Texas Hill Country, blood dripping down my arm. Then the Apache girl climbed toward me with a bone knife. She cut the rope—and the fall knocked me unconscious. When I woke, she was kneeling beside me, binding my wounds with the tenderness of someone who had seen too much death. But the bounty hunters were already tracking us both, and the look in her eyes told me this wasn’t about saving a stranger. It was about saving the last piece of goodness this world hadn’t burned away.
“I don’t know if she came to help me or finish what the trap started,” I gasped, hanging upside down from a tree in the Texas Hill Country, blood dripping down my arm. Then the Apache girl climbed toward me with a bone knife. She cut the rope—and the fall knocked me unconscious. When I…
