oats for the horses. Tough food for a tough land, she'd said in the general store. Tough food wouldn't win a horse's love, though; even Victoria knew that. She'd seen her father's grooms tending to the horses, watched how they'd slip the animals apple slices while brushing them down at night. A silly thing to do, or so she'd thought then.
Did she really need to bother with such things, even now? She was familiar enough with the animals to know that this one wasn't scared of her. When she'd fired her gun, the horse had spooked and bolted, but it hadn't thrown her. Besides, she planned on keeping the animal just long enough to help Cora hunt down the blue-eyed man, the one calling himself Fodor Glava. Once they were done, she would sell it back to the Albuquerque livery and leave this God-forsaken desert behind her. She would return to Oxford with its proper laws, proper dress, and proper baths.
The thought made her smile. Punching her heels into the gelding, she bent low over his neck and galloped down the hill after Cora.
SEVEN
"This it, then?"
Victoria nodded. Thunder growled overhead. The line of clouds that had seemed so distant from the ridge had grown into an angry wall that blocked out the setting sun. No rain fell yet, but Victoria could see it was only a matter of time. In that premature twilight, they had finally come upon the ranch. The buildings were dwarfed by the cliffs rising toward the sky behind them. Victoria felt a strange sense of vertigo, but whether it was from the towering mesa or returning to the site of her harrowing ordeal two nights prior, she didn't know.
"You got yourself a head for directions, Vicky. I'll give you that."
Victoria took the compliment in silence. All she had done was strike out in the same direction she'd seen the blue-eyed man leave in when he deposited her outside of Albuquerque. Such a simple task didn't seem worthy of praise, but she wouldn't deny it, either.
"Well, at least it ain't one of them Indian ruins. Nasty places if half the yarns about them are true."
"Haven't you visited them yourself?" Victoria asked. "I would think that sort of thing would be of great interest to you."
"Just never got around to it is all," Cora said.
The two women nudged their mounts into a slow walk. In the veiled sunlight, the ranch didn't look half as terrifying. The barn was missing a few shingles from its roof and could have done with a fresh coat of paint. Rust stains ran along the wind pump's legs like gangrenous veins, and the house looked as though nobody had gone in or out since her encounter. It was more a scene of sorrow over failed ambition, left behind by the homesteaders whose bid for a new life had come up short. She had difficulty imagining it as a monster's lair, but even so, she examined every corner and every shadow as they approached.
Beside her, Cora was just as watchful, her alertness underscored by the rifle in her hands. She didn't have it propped against her shoulder, ready to fire at the slightest hint of movement, but its presence gave Victoria a measure of comfort.
Victoria explained the details of her encounter to the old hunter as they approached. Cora listened attentively, even as her eyes remained on the silent buildings before them. She asked a few questions, mostly about the man. How tall was he? What did he look like? How did he speak? Victoria answered as best she could, but she grew more uneasy as the line of questions continued. That Cora's attention was centered on the man worried her. The woman was the more dangerous of the two, she felt, but Cora seemed uninterested in her. Even the savage ghoul provoked more questions than the Indian woman did.
Another rumbling of thunder, this one louder. Cora glanced skyward. "Ain't got much time," she said. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a rosary and slid it around her left wrist. "Let's check the barn first."
Victoria nodded. She considered pulling her own gun, then thought better of it. Dismounting with it in one hand would probably be dangerous. Best to wait until they were on foot.
No sooner had she decided this than Cora cradled her rifle in the crook of one arm and climbed out of the saddle. Tying the reins to a fence post, she looked up at Victoria expectantly. The younger woman