From the Inside Flap
Moving low and crablike, Ross inched hisway to the edge of the outcropping, poised on the balls of his feet. As therider came on, Ross could see a hand resting on the stock of a shotgun jammedin a boot. The rider was alert, but as Ross had hoped, failed to notice theoverhanging ledge of rock. As he passed clip-clopping below, Ross pushedhimself off the edge and down.
The only sounds were a thud, the suddenexpelling of air out of the rider and the gravelly sound of bodies hitting dirt.Ross had landed with one hand around the rider's neck, one clamping his arm,and they fell grappling in the sand. The rider elbowed Ross hard in the gut,then clawed at his face. Ross grabbed a handful of hair and yanked. The rider'shead snapped back, the hat rolled off and Ross found himself looking at theupside down face of Jaimie Callahan.
"You son of a bitchin' sack of horseshit,"Jaimie howled. "What the hell do you think you're doing bushwackin' me?"
"Good Christ," Ross hissed. "What the hellare you doing out here? I told you to stay home."
"I don't take orders from you or no one,"Jaimie snapped. "I come to get my horse and that's what I'm going to do!"