The waterfall, that was what made it so spectacular. The creek down below was no wider than a man could jump across, but that slim flow of water came pouring down a sheer drop of a hundred fifty feet or more. It splashed onto the rocks below and burst into a soft, shimmering mist before it collected once again into the stream they had been following for the past several miles. At the head of the narrow valley, close to the pool that lay at the base of the waterfall, the foliage was lush and green, almost tropical in appearance. The dark logs of a cabin were nearly hidden from sight by the naturally watered mix of aspen and pine. The cliff face hanging above the cabin was dotted here and there with small plants that somehow clung to the tiny ledges. “Damn,” Hahn whispered when he caught sight of it. “Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “Damn an’ then some.” “I wish Jessie could see this.” Taylor’s expression hardened. “Could be that she has.” Hahn immediately sobered and he reached back to touch the butt of the expensive shotgun he was carrying in a saddle scabbard.
