Prologue

Mexico, 1879

Adrenaline pounded through Jared King’s heart with driving force as he commanded running strides from his long legs to cover the distance between the jail house and the horse in sight. It was a small advantage. He had seconds before they followed. He grasped tightly to the reins of the steed and swung himself up onto the horse’s back.

A group of Policia Federal burst out of the jailhouse, the leader shouting orders to his men. Jared heard the whirring buzz of a bullet zoom past his ear. Rearing his horse around, he raised his weapon, aimed, and fired. The leader of the group clutched his chest, collapsing outside the jailhouse door.

He spurred his mount into a fast gallop, leaning down over the horse’s mane to protect himself from the barrage of shots fired after him. He veered the animal to the right of the jailhouse then dug his heels into the horse’s sides. The stallion bolted forward in a dead run. Jared could still hear the angry orders of the Mexican police shouting over the noise of gunfire. They would not delay long in their pursuit.

Bribing a guard at the jailhouse to aid his escape had not been difficult. The promise of a generous amount of money was sufficient. If he could put enough distance between the Mexican police and himself before he reached the border, he would succeed in the promise of his own freedom.