They carried food, blankets, tools, and enough equipment to remain outdoors if the weather changed unexpectedly.
Before leaving, Caleb approached Clara.
She wore a heavy wool coat over her green dress, sturdy boots, and a dark scarf around her neck.
Her hair was braided securely beneath her hat.
She looked determined.
He studied her.
"Are you comfortable on that horse?"
She glanced toward the bay mare.
"Very."
He raised one eyebrow.
"She can be stubborn."
Clara smiled.
"So can I."
He laughed.
Then leaned closer.
For a moment, he hesitated.
She noticed.
Her expression softened.
He kissed her forehead.
"Stay close."
She nodded.
"You too."
He smiled.
Then mounted.
They rode north.
The trail became increasingly difficult as the party climbed.
Pine trees crowded the slopes.
Rocks protruded through the snow.
And the old wagon route narrowed where years of erosion had washed away its edges.
Caleb led.
He knew the safest crossings.
The places where ice formed over moving water.
The sections where horses needed room to turn.
And the narrow ledges where a careless rider could send loose stones tumbling into the ravine below.
Clara watched him.
He moved with quiet confidence.
Not the reckless boldness the town attributed to him.
The careful judgment of someone who respected the mountains enough to fear them.
Twice, he dismounted to examine the trail.
Once, he ordered the party to circle around a slope where snow had collected above unstable ground.
Mallory approved.
Boone said little.
The deputies followed.
Near midday, they reached the abandoned quarry.
A wide depression opened beneath the northern ridge.
Old machinery lay rusting beside a collapsed shed.
Broken timbers protruded from the snow.
And the remains of a wagon track curved toward the ravine where Thomas Hart had died.
Caleb stopped.
For a moment, his face changed.
Clara rode closer.
"Caleb?"
He looked toward the ravine.
His jaw tightened.
"This is where they found him."
She followed his gaze.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she reached toward him.
Their gloved fingers touched briefly between the horses.
He squeezed her hand.
Then released it.
The sheriff approached.
"You all right?"
Caleb nodded.
"Let's get the work done."
They dismounted near the old quarry shed.
Mallory unpacked his instruments.
Clara opened the field books.
The deputies secured the horses.
And Boone began examining the surrounding area for signs of recent activity.
The first task was identifying the landmarks described in the older records.
A rock face shaped like a broken tooth.