”“How much for the two of them and two used saddles that are not so worn out a woman could sit on them for a day?”“Would you be willing to pay...fifty dollars?”“For both mules and two saddles, I will.”“You got a deal then ... When you ridin’ out?”“Tomorrow early, right after breakfast.”“I’ll have ‘em saddled and ready. If you’re a mind to, I can have your packhorse ready and that big Roan of your’n saddled fer you too.”“You can lower that packsaddle down on Ol’ Blue’s back, but you better stay. It was foreboding. There was a stench about the place that purged her memory of every bright feeling she’d ever had. It was a fetid odor of death and decay. There was still an odor of fire, but it was wrong somehow, almost buried beneath a perverse musty smell on the wind. Overlying it all was the coppery smell of blood; lots of blood. She winced at the smell, terrified at what it might portend.She heard faint sounds in the distance. She paused a moment, listening intently. It sounded like. More

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