Van and Teven came to a stop along a low ridgeline from which a wide panorama spread out north to south along the eastern horizon. The grasslands of the American prairies stretched out, with Texas directly ahead, to the east. Far behind them along the distant western horizon, mountains rose to a dull gray blue in the desert haze, and reddened closer to the desert floor. The sun already casting the sky in amber, the party made ready to bed down the herd and camp for the night.

Nathan chased Day Long from the covered chuck wagon. Christian and Marcos helped Juan Semos down from his Appaloosa, while Sende led the remuda into a temporary rope corral held by Hernan and seven of the vaqueros.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Teven gestured across the herd. "After all we've been through, this all seems so terrestrial."

Van shrugged. "It's mundane, and the life I want."

Teven frowned. "I'm not sure there is such a life, Van. Least ways, not for us."

Van gazed east into the twilight descending upon the plains and the first inkling of stars, thinking of Aleya. "It's enough."

Never, the end.