Reseña del libro "Destiny's way (en Inglés)"
A Novel of the Big Bend Kate Blanchard woke up one morning in a dream home she could no longer afford, a young son who needed a man's influence and not a friend among those who had claimed to be prior to her husband's mysterious disappearance. About all she could lay claim to was a ramshackle ranch along Terlingua Creek, sitting forlornly in the desolate reaches of the lower Big Bend in Texas. It was the only place left she could go. There she finds a home, and a presence of something strange yet comforting that she can't fully put her finger on or understand. With that ethereal presence comes Solomon Zacatecas, a loner with his own past and a knowledge of her land near uncanny in nature. He helps her when no one else can and is honest when no one else will be, but she suspicions that he is not completely so. Yet her quiet, unassuming neighbor proves to be more than capable in whatever situation arises. That includes when standing alone against those who would take everything else that Kate had, including her life as well as her son's.EXCERPTThe lone rider had found them again.Two hours before, as the morning sun first peeked over the Sierra del Carmen, he had flushed them out along a nameless creek west of the Tornillo. There had been seven but now they only numbered six, one of the Villistas lay dead in that same arroyo where he first came upon them. Now the renegades were heading for the river, moving fast with horses taken during a murderous spree above the Alto Relex. Raiding his ranch had been their first mistake, assuming he was someplace else was their second. Not knowing the land as he did was going to be their third. Their rattled, ill-considered route taken after the first deadly brush was a more roundabout one, and when the rider topped the rise ahead he knew they would be within rifle range again. The big buckskin powered himself across the last of the eroding draw, nostrils distended as the animal took in and exhaled air in cadence with his ground pounding stride. The last fifteen miles had been hard ones, doubly so when arrowing across unforgiving country by the dark of the moon. But the buckskin was game for the chase and seemed to have no quit in him.At the head of the narrowing draw the stud horse hit the steep part and shot up through it, ears laid back and stretching his head out as if running for the roses. Just as he topped out the rider reined him in, leaning back in the Texas-style saddle and reaching for the Model 95 as the animal squatted on his rear haunches and slid on the broken shale. But even as the buckskin did so, the rider had the long-barreled Winchester out and was jacking a round into the chamber. Letting go of the reins, he stepped off at a scramble and moved quickly to where he had a good firing angle. Below, the trailing Villista was riding directly away from his position, pushing the stolen horses to certain sanctuary now less than a mile away. Dropping into a semi-kneeling position the rider estimated the range, timing his breathing as he squeezed the trigger. The Model 1895 boomed, sending a soft-nosed .30 Army bullet that knocked the raider off his mount. Five faces full of fear turned in unison to the outcropping where the shot had come from. Five men urged their near exhausted mounts on even faster, giving no further thought to the stolen remuda that two of their fellows had paid in the most precious coin for. Their only goal in mind now was to stay alive, and across that river and away from this unrelenting demonio. The rider on the rise levered another two quick shots at the fleeing Villistas and was on the buckskin again, guiding the big horse by knee pressure with the reins in his teeth while reloading the Winchester. He knew the raiders had to be pushed hard and given no time to think, or they might take cover and make a stand of it, or far worse split up and flank him from both sides.
