Luca Orvane's Arc

Chapter 1 of 8

The ranch was ash by sunup, and Luca Orvane stood in it with nothing but his boots and a folded map. His horse was gone. His saddle, his rifle, his rope—all of it burned when the gang torched the barn. They had ridden off laughing. Luca meant to catch every one of them and take back what was his. But a man can't hunt riders across open desert on foot. He pulled the trail map from his vest. The corners were scorched now. Charming little sketches still marked the paths and water holes. He traced a line east with one black-nailed finger. Three days' ride, maybe. Three weeks walking, if the sun didn't kill him first. He spat into the dust. Then he heard hooves behind him. A wild steed stood at the edge of the burn. Its coat was black and shone like oiled silk. No saddle. No brand. Free as the wind and twice as stubborn. The horse eyed him and stamped. Luca grinned despite himself. "Well, aren't you a pretty thing." He moved slow, hand out, voice low. The steed let him close one step, then two. Luca reached for its mane. The horse reared and bolted, leaving him flat on his back in the ashes. "You should stand downwind," a voice said. "It can smell smoke on you." Luca sat up. A man watched from a flat rock, dressed head to toe in white. White coat, white gloves, a pale bandana over his mouth. Clean, in all this ruin. Only his green eyes moved. Luca knew the name before he asked. Every town between here and the river whispered it. A bounty hunter who worked alone and never missed. "Silas Vale," Luca said, brushing off his hat. "Didn't know the famous shootist did horse lessons." Silas didn't blink. "I track the men who burned this place. You want the same ride I do." That stopped Luca cold. "You know where they went." "I know their habits." Silas stood. He didn't hurry. He never seemed to. "That wild steed waters at a spring two miles on. Lure it there with grain. It takes a man it trusts, not one it fears." Luca studied him. Charm wouldn't move this one; he could see that. "And what do you get?" "Half of whatever bounty rides with that gang." Silas turned to go. "You get your ranch. I get paid. Catch the horse first, cowboy. Then we talk." Luca worked through the next hour on his knees, patient for once. Grain from his pocket. Soft words. The black steed circled, tested him, and finally dropped its head to his palm. He swung up bareback, heart hammering. He had a mount now. He had a map. And he had a partner he didn't trust, who knew exactly where his enemies slept. Luca turned the horse east and rode toward the men who'd burned his home.