WEDNESDAY, 10:32 P.M.
GRANITE RIDGE CAMPGROUND
Harper tossed and turned in bed. She and Emily had spent the rest of the afternoon prepping the Airstream, doing laundry, and getting ready to leave early in the morning to head to the campground closer to Grayback. The list to get the RV ready for travel was long and detailed, and they always completed the tasks the night before. Rain was expected in the morning, so it was even better that they had prepared to leave tonight. Everything had been done, including raising the stabilizers—but the trailer was hitched to the truck, so it should be fine for them to sleep in.
All they had to do in the morning was raise the steps to the Airstream, then get in the truck and drive off. That is, if Harper could get out of bed. All that heavy lifting—the hitch wasn’t light—had her back aching.
Her heart was in pain too. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Heath. She’d been told he was okay, but what exactly did that mean? And someone had needed an ambulance. Worry had chased her all day and night.
Funny to think that their paths had once again crossed—more like collided—and he’d inserted himself into her life. She’d accepted a gift from him—his way of comforting her. Offering reassurance. She reached over and pressed a hand over the camera on the small side table. But she deluded herself into thinking she was part of his world. She wasn’t anymore. Not really. She should stop worrying about him. She had enough issues of her own.
Except.
Heath . . .
His face and broad shoulders came to mind. The way he smelled and walked and talked. The way he made her feel. He’d left one of his business cards, with his cell phone number on it, in the camera case. It read: HEATH MCKADE, PROPRIETOR, EMERALD M GUEST RANCH. She’d already plugged the number into her new phone, along with Emily’s. She could call him, but she wouldn’t. He would be wrapped up in dealing with the incident at his ranch.
Was he really okay? What happened? How could she find out? She’d tried calling the sheriff’s department like Laura had suggested, but of course that got her nowhere.
Before they unplugged, she and Emily had watched the local news, but Harper didn’t learn anything new about what happened at the Emerald M Ranch. No names were released. At least she’d seen for herself that Heath was okay when the newscast showed him talking to reporters.
Images of Mom, along with Heath, swirled around in her mind.
Harper had been too young to remember much, or maybe she had been too wrapped up in her silly little-girl things. But she could clearly remember her mother sitting at the kitchen table, her hair hanging down over her face as she cried. Her hands shook as the nightly news broadcast talked about a horrific bombing.
While Harper wanted the sheriff’s office to get on top of what happened at the ranch, she worried that the woman’s murder she’d witnessed would not be given priority.
An image of the shooter’s scope looking straight at her came to mind. Harper shuddered.
While she wanted the man to be caught and brought to justice, she didn’t hold out much hope for that. In her experience, the bad guys didn’t get caught that often. And if he couldn’t get caught, then she hoped he had left the area for good and would receive his just reward elsewhere.
Would she ever sleep?