The river was the only way through.
And someone was waiting on the other side.
They thought it would be a hard crossing—cold water, bad footing, and a long ride behind them.
They were wrong.
Because Paradise Pass doesn't forgive mistakes.
When the lead rider hits the water, he's already watching the ridgeline. Watching for movement. Watching for the kind of trouble that doesn't show itself until it's too late.
Then the first shot comes.
Now the river isn't just a crossing—it's a trap.
Horses slipping. Guns coming up. Men caught in open water with nowhere to run.
And the ones driving them forward may not be allies at all.
In a place like Paradise Pass, you don't get a second chance.
You either make the crossing—
or the river takes you.
