Edited to get rid of Warren again. He is stubborn.
Chapter 6: Monday Morning
He had set the laptop aside, drained his glass and slept, for a while, but was up before dawn and gone down the road south of the city to Palo Duro Canyon State Park.
The sun was still not up as he crossed the park boundary; at the shuttered office he'd banged on the door twice before a Ranger appeared, groggy and annoyed. Jimmy had shown his badge to get the Ranger to check the computer for Annie's camping registration, and armed with the park map on the passenger seat and the campsite number on a post-it note had driven into the park to the campground.
When he came finally to the campsite at daybreak, he breathed deeply in relief at the sight of Annie's truck; he'd been holding his breath, he realized, with the strain of worry that she would not be there. He pulled in behind her truck, blocking her in. His arrival had wakened her, apparently, and by the time he'd gotten out of his truck and walked around the vehicles she was scrambling out of the small tent and coming towards him, zipping her fleece jacket against the early morning chill.
In three long strides he closed the distance between them. Too relieved for his normal restraint with her, he gathered her against his chest and hugged her fiercely. Too angry to stay quiet, he held her by the shoulders, and said sharply, "Never do that again, Annie. Never leave me. Never frighten me like that."
She looked for a second like she might make excuses, defend her actions to him. He stopped her with a warning look. "Annie, don't pretend you don't know why I'm angry. I know you meant for me not to know you were gone, not to find you. How could you think I wouldn't look until I found you safe? 'Course I did. And I found you by following the clues for William Frost; I know that's why you're here."
She dropped her eyes, for once did not argue with him. The anger drained away, leaving only his relief in seeing her unharmed. He raised his hand to her face, pushed her hair away from her eyes. "If you have to do this, Annie, let me help you."
She made coffee with her tiny camp stove and they sat at the picnic table while she explained. She'd remembered as soon as she'd seen the old picture again Friday night where they'd been. The summer she'd been twelve, she and her father had camped in the park for several weeks, lying low after some trouble in New Mexico. Their only home at the time was a beat up trailer; the park was as good a place as any for a man staying away from his usual haunts. It had been an island of normalcy in a turbulent young life, and she'd enjoyed camping. They'd walked the hiking trails and ventured into the backcountry, camped for a couple of nights beyond the Lighthouse; the picture had been taken by another hiker on the trail to the Lighthouse Rock. It was the only time she could remember she and her father being in the Amarillo area; and she'd fixed on the idea that he was revisiting the place for some reason, had returned to a place that was perhaps one of his few good memories as well.
"I decided to look for him here", she said, "Nobody but me could possibly know to look here. I decided not to involve the Marshals. I think that if he was coming to this place it must indicate some change of heart, some regret. He's not a young man anymore; he's an older man, revisiting a place he was happy. I thought maybe I could talk to him, and put some things right between us." She looked up at him, twisting her empty coffee cup in her hands. "I know I was wrong not to tell you."
"I started packing as soon as you left; was gone before 1:00 in the morning. By 10:00 I was in Lubbock; found an open kennel and left Fifty-nine, stopped and got a few groceries. I was here just after noon. Slept a bit and started looking for him. This late in the season the park isn't that busy, so I was able to check the registrations pretty closely. There's nobody registered here that I can identify; he hasn't used his own name or any alias I know. Saturday afternoon and evening I went through all the campgrounds; I spent yesterday hiking through the backpacking camp area. He's in none of those areas that I can see. But I think I know where to look. I want to go into the back canyon beyond the Lighthouse, to the place we camped out. My plan was to ride in today."
He took her hand across the table. "Nothing I could say would change your mind?"
She shook her head.
"Then I'll come with you. And nothing you could say will change my mind."
They had a quick bite to eat, and packed a day's worth of supplies in their bags; water, some food, the maps, Annie's GPS and the first-aid kit from her truck. They left behind their phones; there was no signal anyway. At Jimmy's insistence they wore vests under their shirts. They carried their guns, concealed by their clothes. They drove to the trailhead in his truck, and Jimmy talked to the stable hands, looked over and helped saddle the horses, stowed their small bags in the larger saddlebags. By eight in the morning they were well down the trail that wound into the canyon towards the Lighthouse Rock, Jimmy smiling a little to think of Marshals on horseback again 150 years after the USMS began enforcing the law in the West.