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“Kurdish,” Annie said.

Dec shook his head. “We’re nowhere near Kurdistan.”

“It’s the name of the breed. There are two kinds of horses in this part of the world. Arabians. And Kurdish. This guy we’re riding is probably Kurdish.” She patted the animal’s flank. “He’s big and strong. And handsome.”

“Like me,” Dec said.

Annie laughed. “Exactly like you.”

The satphone still wasn’t working. Dec had no idea why. The phone itself seemed okay and it had never failed him before. He’d just have to work around it. Anyway, they’d eventually reach the border and the little market town where he’d find a phone and arrange for extraction the old fashioned way.

The day began to wind down.

Annie was worn out. Everything she’d experienced in the last several days had to be catching up. She hadn’t complained, but Dec recognized the signs. The last time they’d taken a break, he’d been startled at how pale she was, and how her hands trembled when she unwrapped an energy bar.

She needed rest. Real rest. In a bed, with a roof over her head. And real food, or at least a hot MRE.

The bottom line was that he had to find a place to spend the night and as dangerous as it might be to ride up to a farmhouse and ask for shelter, it would be even more dangerous to wait to do it until dark.

Then, unexpectedly, their fortunes changed.

Dec saw a structure far ahead, nestled in the curve of a low hill.

What was it?

He brought the binoculars to his eyes.

The people who lived here were poor. The size of the farmhouses reflected that, but what he saw through the glasses was small even by local standards.

Was it a shed for animals? No. It wasn’t big enough. Besides, if it housed living creatures, there’d have been a house nearby.

Some sheep farmers, those with large herds, drove their animals here for summer grazing. Maybe this was where a shepherd would spend those months.

Whatever it was, the little house seemed uninhabited.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Annie, who had been drowsing against his back, jerked upright as he clucked softly to the horse and changed their direction.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a house by that hill.” He held the binocular behind him so she could grab them. “See it? Way to the east? Tucked in so it’s barely visible?”

“It’s tiny.”

“Yeah. It looks empty. Maybe it’s a shepherd’s summer camp. I’m hoping it is.”

They approached the structure slowly. When they got closer, Dec’s sense that nobody lived in it grew stronger. No smoke came from the chimney; weeds and grass grew tall around its perimeter and at the door.

Still, he was cautious. Experience had taught him that it was always best to check things as much as you could instead of stumbling into trouble.

He drew the horse to a halt. They slid from the saddle. She gave him the binoculars and he put them away, but when he held out the reins, she put her hands behind her back.

“If you’re going in, so am I.”

“Annie,” he said patiently, “we aren’t going to argue over this.”

“You’re right. We won’t argue. I’m going with you and that’s that.”