Are we ever getting out of these mountains?” she asked without turning to look at him. He moved up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned back against him. Her hair glistened with melting snow. She felt small in his arms. “We’re going to get out of here,” he whispered as he slowly turned her to face him. “Do you trust me?” She raised her head to meet his eyes and held his gaze for a long moment. “With my life.

Are we ever getting out of these mountains?” she asked without turning to look at him. He moved up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned back against him. Her hair glistened with melting snow. She felt small in his arms. “We’re going to get out of here,” he whispered as he slowly turned her to face him. “Do you trust me?” She raised her head to meet his eyes and held his gaze for a long moment. “With my life.

– B.J. Daniels –

Lone Rider

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