The dirt clogged Jacob’s throat like landslides blocked streams. He’d been riding through the desert for what seemed like months. All because of one woman, and he didn’t even know Miss Elder’s first name. He’d last seen her as bandits carried her away. She and Jacob the only two breathing members of their wagon train bound for the Mississippi River area. He’d been shot. She kidnapped by a long-haired single-toothed varmint of a scoundrel.
The fear in her eyes would haunt him until the day he died. He had to find her. He’d been a boy when he started this quest. The trail and the outlaws since had hardened him into a man. A man who would complete his quest or die.