Jim had been riding for three hours when he realized he and his horse needed a break from the heat. He studied the terrain and headed toward a cluster of rocks that offered a little bit of shade. West dismounted and pulled his canteen off the saddle, taking a swig of the water. He cupped his hand, poured a little water in it, and placed it under his horse's nose. The animal lapped it up. Jim repeated the procedure a few more times, and then put the canteen away. It was the beginning of July, and the desert was hot. It was at least fortunate that he was in the Flagstaff area; it was almost always close to twenty degrees cooler than Sedona.

His brow furrowed in worry. Several days of exposure to this kind of heat could kill a man. He prayed that wherever Artie was, he wasn't without protection from the sun. Jim sat down in the shade for a few minutes and his mind wandered to the questions that had plagued him for the past several weeks. He knew Lily had broken Artie's heart, but Artemus Gordon wasn't a man who was likely to just wither up and die because a woman he loved thwarted him. Still, Jim felt concern deep in his gut; maybe he had misjudged how badly Artie was going to take it. And just maybe it was something Artie couldn't take.

No, he refused to believe that. It was far more likely that something unforeseen had happened to his partner, although hat thought gave him no more comfort than the previous one. Jim stood, patted his horse on the neck, and jumped up into the saddle. His search would continue until he had some answers.

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