Free Breakaway (A Gail McCarthy Mystery) by Laura Crum Page B

nostalgically of green meadows full of wildflowers and clear mountain lakes. The wind riffled through a clump of pampas grass by the trail with a paper-like rustling, and Plumber cocked a watchful ear.
    Everywhere the brush country crowded around me, nearby slopes golden and olive and brown, more distant ridges fading to a misty gray-blue. The trail picked its way through a thick stand of ceanothus, arching over us like a tunnel. This wild lilac would have been a blaze of blue-violet, sweet-scented bloom in March; now, in early June, it was just a tall green shrubbery.
    On we went, and up. The trail grew narrower, found its way through a grove of madrones, their graceful red-barked trunks like a curving, sinuous group of young dancers. Ahead was an opening, a small meadow crowning a hill.
    I rode on, aiming for the high spot. Big vistas opened up where I could see through gaps in the trees that fringed the trail. Hills, rolling and tumbling away to the blue half moon of the Monterey Bay, visible now in the distance. In a minute I was on the crest, looking out over the coastline as a Spanish conqueror might have done.
    These hills would not have been so very different then, I reflected, had such a one come here on horseback. These trees, obscuring and revealing that blue curve of water, these fields of dried grass flashing silver and gold in the breeze ... all this would be the same. But to the invading army they would have appeared unknown and challenging, rather than friendly and familiar. How the hell are we going to get from here to there, they probably thought.
    Good question, when you're on horseback in uncharted country. This little meadow was the destination I'd had in mind. Off to my right I could see a trail disappearing into a clump of oaks, a trail I knew would take me back home. I'd ridden this loop many times before. But off to my left was another trail, one I'd never explored. Today, I decided, is the day.
    The new trail was steep, and it headed rapidly downhill through heavily forested country that blocked out all views. Plumber picked his way cautiously, bracing himself against the slope. I leaned back and concentrated on avoiding long poison oak vines that reached out across the trail. No use itching for the next two weeks.
    Down and down we went, descending the other side of the ridge. I knew roughly where we were, but I had no idea where this trail was headed.
    We bottomed out in a little valley, which had obviously at one time been a farm. I could see the remains of a homestead at the upper end, and most of the open ground was planted in apple trees. Neglected now, with brambles growing between them, the trees still survived, twisted and old and wild. Small green apples adorned the branches; I made a mental note to come back here in the fall.
    Skirting the apple orchard, I picked up the trail, or a trail, on the far side, headed uphill. It looked reasonably well made and as though it were traveled some. I followed it. It took me up and over another ridge, and then followed a canyon deeper into the hills. Then, once again, upward through dusty open fields and clumps of scrub.
    Here it was warmer, and Plumber was getting tired. He plugged on up the hills like the little trooper he was, but his neck was wet with sweat; I stopped often to let him rest.
    Time to head back, I thought. The question was how.
    I wasn't exactly sure where I was, though I could guess the general area. I had hoped that this trail would eventually take me in the direction of home, but it had not, and now I wasn't sure that it would. It led on inexorably inland, east, and I lived more or less due north.
    On the other hand, I was bound to end up somewhere, I reassured myself. There just wasn't enough open land in this part of the world to get really lost in. Sooner or later I was sure to pitch out on a street or road, which I would no doubt recognize. The big question was when and where.
    My horse was tired and I had no desire to end up