CHAPTER SEVEN
Sweat beaded on Ilse's brow, and she had rolled up the sleeves of her thin sweater beneath the bright sun. Her expression now matched the sheriff's, though they'd long since left the trail where the cantankerous law keeper was still keeping a weathered eye.
She stepped over a churning creek dipping out of stony terrain. Already, they'd passed three similar sources of water. And each time, they'd come up with nothing.
Was the sheriff right? Were they simply chasing their tails?
Ahead of her, Sawyer pushed doggedly on, eyes to the ground, hands at his sides, palms parallel to the ground as if he were somehow stabling himself against the wind.
“Anything?” Ilse said, watching as Sawyer moved up the rocky creek-bed.
He paused long enough to scan the water, his eyes flicking
