The drops felt like the lightest fingertip’s touch, like a hundred hands gently touching her skin. She smiled at the thought of the storm making love to her and ran her own hands over her body, wiping away the rain, feeling fresh drops take their place .

After breakfast, Helen said, “Cal, those clouds don’t look good.” Helen kept her eyes on the rapidly darkening sky. They’d already packed their gear, planning to head another mile down the canyon looking both for Kinkaid’s Temple and an easier path out of the canyon.