In the Shadow of Death by Gwendolyn Southin

were on yesterday?”
    â€œYes. That must be it.” Kate sounded relieved. “I’m glad you understand it.” She peered closely at the map again. “So this is the road up the mountain, then. ” She put a finger on the black line that ran part way up Beaver Mountain.“The one up to the mine.”
    Maggie nodded and refolded the map. “In the morning, I’m going to take Angel out on my own. This map will be a great help.”
    â€œOn your own! Don’t you want me to come with you?”
    â€œNo. I’ll be fine.”
    â€¢ • •
    BUT IT WAS AL that greeted her the next morning. It was his father’s day off, and he had been left in charge. “Sure you’re up to going out on your own?” he asked.
    Maggie wasn’t at all sure, but she needed to get away from the house and be completely on her own to think things out before calling Nat and committing the agency to the task of locating Kate’s husband. “I won’t go far.”
    â€œWell, okay,” he answered dubiously. “Pop’s left me so many chores to do . . . ”
    â€œI’ll be fine. Just help me saddle up.”
    The morning air was crisp, and Angel was fresh and eager to get going. Maggie even managed a quick look back to see the trail that the horse was leaving through the dew-covered grass. She pressed her heels into Angel’s flanks and headed her toward the distant hills, and it seemed no time at all before she reached the junction of the river road and the road from the ranch house. She stretched her arms above her head and then reached down into the saddle bag for the two apples and the map she had stowed there. While Maggie peered at the map and took a bite out of her apple, Angel happily chewed hers whole, the juice foaming out of her mouth. Maggie raised her head to gaze across the vast ranchlands. There’s the river . She could see it in the distance, glinting in the morning sun. “Come on, Angel,” she said, giving the horse her apple core. “Let’s get down there and have a look at the water.” Pointing Angel’s nose down the incline, she pressed her knees firmly into the horse’s flanks and felt a thrill as she responded with a gentle trotting. “Take it easy, old girl,” she murmured to her.
    Angel quickened her pace as they neared the gurgling river, and when she reached it, stopped suddenly and bent her head to drink, causing Maggie to cling precariously to the saddle.
    The dogs seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment Maggie and Angel were alone, and the next three huge German shepherds were rushing at them, snarling and baring their fangs. Trembling with fright, Angel reared back and then plunged headlong into the forest, with Maggie clutching onto the saddle for dear life. The dogs kept pace with them, snapping at the terrified horse’s legs. Suddenly, there were a couple of shrill whistles, and as quickly as the dogs had appeared, they were gone.
    The track, as it ran between the river and the trees with their low hanging branches, was narrow and rutted. “Whoa! Whoa!” Maggie screamed. But Angel, nostrils flaring, her ears laid back, was beyond hearing. She had but one thought, and that was to get as far away as possible. Petrified, Maggie clung to her mount’s neck as the tree branches whipped and slashed at horse and rider. Head bowed, she had no way of seeing or ducking the low cedar branch, and it sent her flying backward to land on the dirt track. Angel, now free of Maggie’s weight, bolted onward and out of sight.
    For a while, Maggie lay on her back before daring to assess the damage. But apart from a lump quickly forming on her forehead and a dull pain in her back, there seemed nothing seriously wrong. She pulled herself to a sitting position, but had to wait several minutes for the wave of nausea to pass. Then, crawling over to the riverbank, she bathed her face in the icy