She makes a show of shrugging noncommittally, returning her focus to their course. But the smile stays firmly in place.



"No rush."

She glances over her shoulder.

"Should be nothin' but dust an' sky for miles. Not countin' the odd jackrabbit."

Or rattlesnake. Or scorpion. Or yellow-spotted lizard.

"Speakin' of which, Gene, stay far an' away from any critter you ain't familiar with, all right?"