LONG TRAIL TO DOOMSDAY
Rainey glanced at him sharply. “For what?”
“Mel’s right, Jeff. It’s too dangerous. And unnecessary.”
Rainey stood and tossed his coffee dregs into the fire.
“Well, it’s what I aim to do,” he said stubbornly, mounting the horse again. “See you in Kansas.”
He threw the group a salute, then spun the horse around and rode off into the night. Roper started to call him back but changed his mind and turned away with a scowl.
“Then go to hell,” he muttered. “You’re on your own, amigo.”