Apparently believing both men were asleep, the young Apache princess let her calico blouse slip down off her shoulders. However, Longarm was not asleep. He’d awakened when the girl had risen from her bedroll, just after the sun had gone down. In the summer in the desert Southwest, travelers rode by night, especially when there was a moon, as there was now. That way said travelers spared themselves as well as their mounts from the merciless sun. Longarm had been sleeping with the intention of rising with the moon, but Magpie had risen first. The girl’s stirring had awakened Longarm. Apparently, she had decided to refresh herself at the tinaja, the small stone tank tucked away in this narrow, rocky arroyo in which they’d set up camp earlier that morning. The tank was fed by a trickle of spring water. Narrowing one eye as he stared out from beneath his down-canted hat, Longarm saw the girl drop to her knees on the small pool’s opposite side, facing him.
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