Free Tracker’s Sin by Sarah McCarty Page B

enough to take her where
    she needed to go. That would be Tracker. The man she hoped would be her hero. The man getting drunk right now.
    She sighed. There was nothing she could do about his drinking. Town was dangerous.
    She’d just turned to go home when another gunshot sounded, fol owed by three more. Her heart skipped a beat. Shielding her eyes from
    the sun, she saw something even more terrifying: a rider was between her and the house.
    She stopped dead. So did the rider. Backlit by the sun as he was, she could only make out his silhouette. There was nothing soothing
    about it. The rifle braced on his thigh, his long hair blowing about his face… Lights flashed behind her eyes. She pul ed Miguel tight to her chest, holding
    his face to her in case he screamed. Any sound would be dangerous. They were like wolves in their ability to find her when she ran. Any sound was
    betrayal. She kissed Miguel’s head. She had to keep him safe. She couldn’t let them get her son. Had the rider seen her? Please don’t let him have seen
    see me.
    There was no safe place to hide here. No one to help her. But Tracker was in town…
    The rider turned, facing her. Oh, my God, she had to run! A scream wel ed, but she smothered it. She couldn’t fal apart. Couldn’t let him
    get her. She had to protect Miguel. She had to escape.
    Spinning on her heel, she ran, her heart thundering in her ears. Or was it the sound of his horse? Was he going to run her down? She ran
    faster, her skirts tangling around her legs, slowing her.
    Please God, don’t let him catch me. Not this time. Not this time.
    She ran until she couldn’t run anymore, chanting Tracker’s name like a talisman with every step, pushing herself when her body
    demanded she quit, not stopping until a hand on her arm spun her around.
    “Que pasa, hija?”
    The lights stopped flashing. Ari blinked and looked around at the col ection of buildings and people. She’d run al the way to town. A
    middle-aged woman stood beside her, holding her elbow. She had kind eyes. Ari had been tricked by kind eyes before.
    She shook her head. “Nothing.”
    The woman clucked her tongue and told her in Spanish to go home. That it wasn’t safe for her to be here in town. One glance around
    confirmed it. Even as she assessed her position, men lounging about buildings straightened and took notice. Their gazes crawled over her skin, lingered
    in her hair, dismissed the baby in her arms.
    Fear shivered down her spine. A man with a dirty sombrero pushed back from his face stepped off the wooden walk. Another fol owed
    suit.
    “Tracker.” She had to find Tracker.
    I’m going to get a drink.
    Lifting her chin, fil ing every step with a confidence she didn’t feel, Ari locked her gaze on the cantina, pretending she didn’t see the men
    along the way who fel into step beside her. Licking her lips, she hugged Miguel closer. Josefina was right. She didn’t know what she was doing, and now
    she’d endangered her baby.
    “Venga aquí, muchacha,” a man on the left cal ed. Another picked up the cal , while a third added encouragement. She wasn’t going
    anywhere near him. She wasn’t going near any of them. Miguel fussed. She kissed his head and kept walking, whispering Tracker’s name like a prayer.
    She took the steps to the cantina in a near run, her heels making staccato taps on the wood. No one stopped her from going in. No one
    stopped her once she was inside. The minute it took for her eyes to adjust to the dim light was the longest in her life. The stench of stale sweat, whiskey
    and tobacco burned her nose and lungs. She coughed. Miguel fussed again. Wooden chairs creaked as men turned to stare at her.
    In almost a panic, she searched for Tracker. He was in the back right corner, a bottle of whiskey set in front of him on a rickety-looking
    table. In his hand, he held a ful glass. His hat was pul ed down over his eyes. Not by a twitch of muscle did he indicate he saw her. She needed him to