COLE knew it was there, he could smell it, as well as hear it. Sometime in the night, he dragged himself to the stream and plunged face first into the cool water. The shocking cold exploded across his skin, revitalising him, and he wallowed in it, allowing himself as much time as he needed to restore strength and mobility to his aching bones.
Later, he slept.
The heat from the morning sun woke him. A further wash, more drinking, and he was on his feet, moving with stealth and speed, keeping the stream close. Soaked through to the skin, at first he shivered with the cold. Soon the heat made its mark, and within the hour, he was dry.
He followed the signs, wondering what had happened to his horse. Monroe must have taken him. He’d taken everything else. Tracking kept his mind focused, forc
