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Allie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet her raspy breathing, trying to tell herself she was safe at the ranch. That she wasn’t alone in the woods being stalked by a ruthless killer. But it was hard to block the image of Trina’s dead eyes, her waterlogged skin and what the fish would do to the woman’s face. It was even more impossible to block the sound of breaking brush as Dwight moved through the woods in his systematic search.
At one point, he’d passed only a few feet from where she was hiding beneath some rotting tree roots. She’d almost vomited in terror. But it had been pre-dawn and the grayish light had been her friend. Now the sun had risen and she was no longer well hidden.
She had to find a new spot. It was painfully clear Dwight wasn’t leaving until he found her. But she had no idea where to go. She considered running for the camp, flinging herself on one of the horses and galloping away. Kate had done something like that once, and it had sounded so exciting. Only this wasn’t exciting at all. It was terrifying. And her legs were shaking so much it was doubtful she could climb on one of those big horses and ride bareback. Maybe she could saddle one?
She’d never done that before. Carter had saddled Panda for her. He’d demonstrated the proper procedure, and she’d nodded and tried to pay attention but all she noticed was his deep voice and the way his beautiful fingers moved over the leather.
It was unlikely Dwight would stand back and wait while she learned to tack up a horse. Even if she did manage to mount, he’d follow on the other animal. He probably wouldn’t have to chase her very far because no doubt she’d slide off as soon as the horse started running.
She wished horses were protective like dogs. Still, maybe the two horses would return to the ranch if they were loose. She’d heard stories from guests who’d fallen off and their animals often ran home. Apparently horses had a good sense of direction and were motivated by cupboard love. If they arrived at the barn without riders, there would be a huge furor. Help would come far quicker than waiting for the end of the race. If only she could drum up the courage to sneak in and untie the horses.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, making herself small, hating the idea of leaving her hiding place. But it had been blind luck that Dwight hadn’t found her earlier. In fact, he could be sitting ten feet away, hatchet in hand, just waiting. Would he cut her up and put her in the river with Trina? If she were in pieces, the fish would have an easier time...
She forced back a whimper, telling herself Dwight wasn’t close. In fact, she could hear the crack of a limb as he rustled in the woods. Judging by the noise, he was closer to the river than the campsite.
This would be the best chance to free the horses. As long as she didn’t make a sound. And if she had enough courage.
She swallowed, trying to wet her bone-dry throat. Then slowly, reluctantly, she crept out from beneath the overturned tree, her attention locked on the noise behind her. Luckily, she was small.
Dwight was much louder, making him easy to track as he bulled his way through the bush. He seemed to be moving in a grid-like pattern, fast but thorough. If he kept going in the same direction, he’d be close to the uprooted tree in a matter of minutes. She was moving just in time. But she was too frightened to feel any satisfaction.
She inched toward the clearing on shaky legs and cautiously scanned the campsite. Both horses swiveled, their ears tracking her approach. But they viewed her as an old acquaintance and didn’t act startled. In fact, they looked relieved.
And then Trina’s horse, the big one with the black mane and tail, greeted her with a friendly nicker.
God, no. She froze. In the woods behind her Dwight also turned silent. Had he heard the horse? And then the branches snapped with new urgency and it was obvious he was coming. And coming fast.
She dropped all pretense of stealth and bolted toward the animals, fumbling at their knots with frightened fingers. But the ropes only tightened. It was impossible to loosen them now. Frantic, she slid her hands up the ropes, unsnapped the lead lines from the halter rings, and finally the horses were freed.
“Go,” she begged, flapping her arms. “Run home.”
But the two horses milled around in confusion. They seemed to think she was there to lead them to water.
She desperately grabbed a chunk of black mane and tried to swing herself onto Trina’s horse. But he was tall and her foot slammed his rump. She dangled against his side, her legs swinging. The obliging horse stood rock still though, despite the unusual treatment, and she was able to tighten her grip and haul herself onto his broad back. Finally she was upright.
She kicked him in the ribs and stared down the logging road, praying he’d run in that direction and not toward the river.
The horse jerked forward, broke into a trot and then a lumbering gallop. His back was broad and slippery, his gait much more rolling than Panda’s. However, he was moving away from Dwight and he was moving quickly.
Best of all, the second horse was following. She could hear his pounding hoofbeats, could hear Dwight’s enraged holler.
“Fucking bitch!” he shouted.
But she was on a horse and escaping, and he’d never be able to catch her now. If her seat were more secure, she would have turned and given him the finger. It took all her concentration though to stick to this wonderful horse’s back. She tightened her hold on his mane, gripping with her legs, wishing now he wasn’t galloping quite so fast, wishing she had a saddle. Wishing the old logging road wasn’t quite so rutted.
Then it happened. The horse stumbled and she slid sideways. She knew a split second of shock, a sense of flying through the air and then smack. The air whooshed from her lungs and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She could barely think.
She knew she had to crawl off the road. Dwight was coming. But she couldn’t move. Could only give her legs a helpless twitch.
And then his fingers were on her arms and it was too late. Fury rushed through her and she jerked forward, trying to bite his wrist.
“It’s okay, Allie,” a voice whispered. “I got you.”
She blinked up at Carter’s face even as he scooped her up and eased her back into the brush. Dwight’s steps pounded past. Her flinch was involuntary but Carter’s eyes held hers, cautioning her to be quiet, and at the same time he looked so confident and reassuring that she didn’t move again. She could only stare, in hope and shock and gratitude.
Something pricked behind her eyes then tickled her cheeks. He reached up with a finger and wiped her face.
“What happened?” he asked. “Did that bastard hurt you?” And though his finger was gentle as it wiped away her tears, his eyes were blazingly hard.
“N-no.” Allie’s words cracked, her breath coming with difficulty. “But he killed Trina.”
