He shook his head with a secretive smile. “That’s for you to figure out.” He unsheathed his rifle. “Let me show you how to use this.” He flipped the safety, cocked, and shouldered it. “Hold the stock firm to your shoulder like this, or the recoil will knock you on your ass, or worse, hit you in the face. You try it.”
Miranda’s palms were sweaty as she took the rifle from his hands. She hated guns, but he was right. She needed some protection if she was going to be out here alone with rattlesnakes and mountain lions and God knows what else. She shouldered and aimed it, but held back from firing a shot.
“Go ahead and shoot it,” he urged. “You need to know how it feels.”
She licked her lips and exhaled, instinctively shutting her eyes as she squeezed the trigger. The stock jammed into her shoulder as the sound of the gunshot exploded in her ears.
“Good.” Keith gave a nod. “But keep your eyes open next time.”
“I hope there won’t be a next time.”
He pulled a canteen from his pack. “I’ll take this one, but there’s more water in here and some salty shoe leather if you get hungry enough.” Another grin stretched his mouth. His gaze then met hers, and his smile faded. “I promise I won’t be long.”
Leaving his pack behind, Keith took off at a jog. His look and words were meant to reassure, but Miranda still couldn’t suppress a dull feeling of abandonment as she watched him slowly fade into the horizon.
*
Hoping to kill time, Miranda scouted the vicinity for the opportunity to take a few stills, but the barren, sage-dotted landscape in the noonday sun provided little inspiration. Seeking relief from the sun, Miranda pulled a blanket from the pack and then climbed on top of a boulder to hang it over the branches of a Joshua tree. Having created a shelter, she stretched out against the tree, her cap pulled down over her eyes, only to be startled a few minutes later by a soft nicker.
She opened her eyes to discover one of the stray foals they’d sought. Lying perfectly still, she was filled with a thrilling sense of wonder when the horse approached. Seemingly fascinated, it sniffed her and then moved down her body until the whiskers of its muzzle tickled her hand.
Miranda suppressed a giggle at the sensation of moist, hot air fanning her skin. She opened her palm, whispering, “Hello, little horse.”
It snorted and jumped back, wide-eyed. After a moment it recovered its courage and returned, but this time her hat seemed to have caught its interest. It sniffed, then experimentally lipped the visor. She noticed a second foal, a strawberry roan, standing a short distant away, watching them as the braver one continued smelling and chewing on her hat. After a time, he became bored and moved on to nose her pack, likely attracted to the smell of the fruit inside it. He proceeded to nudge it until he knocked it onto the ground, spilling the contents. Once more, he shied. A louder snort ensued, but then he returned to poke at the spineless prickly pears, eventually taking a bite.
Moving very slowly, she uncapped the camera around her neck and began to film them. The horse froze, watching her with front legs braced and ears flicking back and forth in uncertainty. But after a while, it seemed to lose both fear and interest as it wandered a few feet away and began cropping a patch of brome grass.
Watching her more warily, the second foal eventually joined the first. She sat there filming their every movement, filled with an incredible sense of awe.
Suddenly the horses startled. They gazed into the distance, ears pricked, looking as if they were about to bolt. Reflexively, Miranda reached out for the rifle as she squinted into the distance, but she could see nothing. Taking up her camera, she zoomed in the direction where the horses were focused. At first she made out only a dust cloud, but then shapes emerged: three men on horseback—her much anticipated rescue posse. Exhaling in relief, she released the rifle, hoping and praying the two young horses would stay put. Thankfully, they didn’t stray far.
The riders soon approached. Keith eyed her with a look of surprise. “You found them?”
“They found me.” She laughed. “What happens now? How do we get them back?”
“They’ll follow us as long as we’re on horseback,” Dave answered.
“But there are only three horses,” she remarked. “Where’s Sadie?”
“She made it back to camp late last night, but she’s hurt pretty bad,” Donny said.
“Was it the lion?” Miranda asked.
“Nope, just rope burns and a leg sprain. She’ll recover, but she can’t carry any weight for a while.”