While Holly worked, Wyatt looked out over the edge of their campsite. A light drifted closer, a man on a horseback, close enough to their meeting spot that the local theme set took over. The rider brought his horse to a stop at the edge of their mesa before wheeling his horse around and galloping away. They were just two people meeting out on the frontier, nothing too strange about that. Wyatt pulled at the collar of his plaid shirt, trying to cinch it tighter around his neck. Who would have figured the desert would get so cold at night?…

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