Lum said. “Riding away.” “Good,” Dora DeClare said. “We don’t want anyone else doing our job for us.” “Do you see the woman?” Shade Shannon said. “I want to see the woman.” “She’s inside,” Dora said. She smiled the smile that so often transformed her beautiful face into the evil caricature of a witch. “You’ll see a lot of her soon enough.” Shannon giggled and Lum said, “Share and share alike, remember.” “Even you two won’t be able to wear out what she’s got,” Dora said. Her hand flew to her suddenly hot cheek. “Oh, how unladylike,” she said. “I can’t believe I said such a thing.” “You should know about wearing it out, eh, Dora?” Lum leered. And the woman blushed prettily again and fluttered her long lashes. Dora, Lum, and Shannon lay on the edge of Glorieta Mesa, hidden by rocks and a few wind-twisted junipers. Joshua had been tied to his horse for the journey from El Cerrito. But now he sat in a small meadow a mile west of the Pecos with Luke Caldwell and waited while the others spied on Dromore.
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