New excerpt

From chapter 23

She ran to the barn door. "I must go home."

Clem moved after her. "Stay here. The storm--"

"I'll be home before it's really bad. I have to go." She mounted Paladin and turned back to him, her voice ragged. "Don't you see? I told them I'd help and look what happened."

Paladin did an uneasy dance. Clem grabbed for the reins but she veered to the side and spurred the horse into a quick lope. Clem’s hoarse voice called her to stop, to wait, but she paid no heed. Then she heard nothing but the keening of the wind.

At first it came in uncertain gusts, and the large white flakes eddied and coiled, building low mounds on the road. Then it blew steadily, drawing the flakes into threadlike tassels, streaking the mounds into drifts. Finally the wind assumed full force and drove the snow hard in a slanting southeasterly direction.

Moving nearly broadside against it, Diana made slow progress. Icy pellets stung her cheeks. Billowing veils became thick sheets, concealing all landmarks, even the road. Paladin tried to turn his back to the wind whenever she relaxed her grip on the reins. She leaned over his neck and urged him through deepening drifts. A half buried fence line on the left vanished. Whenever she turned her head to search for the gates to Paradise Valley, her eyes and nostrils filled with snow.

"I must get home," she said aloud. But the screaming wind drowned out the sound of her voice.

Paladin, his coat crystallized with ice, whinnied and wheezed, gasped and shuddered. Despite the horse’s increasing unsteadiness, she didn't dare stop, even when she lost all sensation in her face and hands.

They plodded on, for miles it seemed, for hours that may have only been minutes. How long had she been out in the storm? Where was she? Nothing made sense any longer.

Paladin stumbled and fell onto his forelegs. She rolled off and struggled for footing. With a jerk on the reins, she pulled him up, then plowed on through knee-deep drifts. She couldn't see the horse an arm's length behind her. He careened and dropped onto his side.

She yanked on the bridle, shrieked, "Get up. Get up, damn beast. Oh, God. What have I done?" She fell on his neck, heard his exhausted gasps, a shuddering sigh, then--nothing. Horrendous pain seized her throat. "My beautiful Paladin." The wind snatched the words from her frozen lips. "I could have saved you. I could have saved James. It's my fault he's dead. My fault you're dead."

          She hauled herself up and staggered forth, whipped by the wind and haunting images: James 

staring vacantly at the sky; Stevy, his scarred face contorted. "The bullet I got for you," he taunted 

her. "The bullet for you--"


The Queen of Paradise Valley    available at Amazon