She carried the box to the Jeep along with the tarp that had covered Sand Dancer. Though it was not yet ten oclock, the sun cut through her thin blouse like a laser. The sky was blue-white and brilliant with water vapor. Even now the first clouds were forming against the highest peaks. By evening, summer thunder would come again to the dry land, bringing the gift of water. From habit Holly moved quietly, enjoying the desert sounds. Quail chuckled beneath the chaparral. Brush rubbed over itself with a soft, leathery sound. Bees hummed endlessly, frantic with their efforts to take advantage of the brief bloom that followed midsummer rains. The thundershower had unsettled the desert inhabitants. Many of them lived underground, letting the land itself insulate them from the suns killing heat. The hard rain of last night had filled underground holes and burrows with water, driving everything living up to the surface. There the animals would stay until the water sank beneath the level of their homes.
